I'll Do My Crying in the Rain
by Gabi-hime
Summary: Seta Soujiro has come a long way since he left Shishio that final time, but the road to redemption is not an easy one. How long can Kuri put up with his refusal to be honest with her? The second story in the Tears and Rain continuity
1. Mushrooms and Newlyweds: A Pleasant and ...

It was the height of October's Indian summer and the day was uncomfortably warm

I'll Do My Crying in the Rain

Chapter One -- Mushrooms and newlyweds: A pleasant and peaceful vacation

By Gabi (sailorgabriel@yahoo.com)

It was the height of October's Indian summer and the day was uncomfortably warm. It was so warm, in fact, that common sense directed those outside that it would be to their benefit to stay in the shade. One such fellow who almost always listened to what the logical part of his mind asserted was lounged comfortably in a crook of a large water elm branch that bent gracefully towards the swift water in the large river nearby. His tabi, sandals, and gi were all folded neatly in a small pile at the base of the tree. Clad in only his hakama, the boy would have easily passed for a fourteen-year-old playing hooky from his chores or lessons were it not for the healed-over sword scar on his right shoulder. Still, at first glance, he did look like a regular boy spending a warm fall day devoted to nothing more than fishing, because he was indeed dangling a line into the water. However, even if the less observant watcher would not have failed to notice the pair of swords hung from a cloth obi and draped over another branch less than twelve inches away from the boy's free hand. 

The obi was knotted around the branch in an odd loop, one certain to keep the swords from coming loose accidentally and dropping into the river, but also one that could be released swiftly if one knew which part of the belt to pull. The sheaths also hung at a peculiar angle so that both of the swords could be drawn at a moment's notice, provided the boy was willing to let go of his fishing line and let it drop into the water. 

Still, despite the fact that he was apparently prepared for all comers, the boy in the dark blue hakama did not look in the least bit worried. He had straddled the branch and was leaning backward against a gnarl, playing with the fishing line absently as he drowsed with a half-smile on his face. The birds were singing pleasantly in the trees, the sun was warm and the breeze was nice and cool in the shade. It was the perfect time to let go of his worries and nap . . .

"Soujiro-kun?" called an anxious voice from the base of the tree, "Have we caught any fish yet?"

The boy opened one eye and then shifted his position so he could peer down through the branches of the tree. The girl who stared up at him anxiously had large green eyes, their color so clear and unmistakable that he could judge it even at this distance. Her hair was sleek and brown, bound in a low ponytail that the breeze lightly played with. Like the boy, she had shed her sandals and socks, but some modesty kept her from throwing off her dark green gi, despite the temperature. She was carrying some small bundle in her hands that she fidgeted with as she waited for his response.

He smiled pleasantly as he shook his head and called down to her, "Iie, Kuri-san, we haven't caught any yet."

She crossed her arms and looked suspicious, "Are you sure that you're really fishing, Soujiro-kun? You promise you're not napping?"

Soujiro scratched the back of his head a little guiltily as he continued to smile, "Of course I'm fishing."

"I hope you remember that we're not just having a good time. That's our meal ticket," she lectured, pointing at the deep blue river.

He sweatdropped, "Hai, hai, Kuri-san. I know. I'm trying very hard to catch as many fish as possible."

The girl who peered up at him still seemed somewhat skeptical, so he attempted to distract her by changing the subject, "What's that you have in your hands?"

She seemed confused for a second and then glanced at the small bundle in her hands. She visibly brightened and he was pleased to see that his diversion had worked, "I gathered up some mushrooms for us to cook with the fish!" she replied cheerfully.

Soujiro was more than a little skeptical, "Mushrooms? Where did you find them?"

She waved her arm in a vague manner that more or less designated the whole riverside stand of trees they were now in, "Over by that tree."

Soujiro sweatdropped. He was in no mood to suffer mild poisoning from Kuri's wishful thinking, "Ne, Kuri-san, can you toss one up to me?"

The girl at the base of the tree planted her hands on her hips and looked indignant, "Soujiro-kun! I was raised on a farm! I know what mushrooms are bad and which ones are good!"

"Maa Kuri-san, I know you were raised on a farm. If you were telling me which turnips were safe to eat I wouldn't be worried. Ano Kuri-san," he leaned out farther over the branch, "You didn't grow wild mushrooms on the farm, did you?"

Kuri's brows furrowed and Soujiro wondered if he had said the wrong thing, but then she sweatdropped and laughed nervously, "Well, I guess not, but this is one of the things I'm supposed to know about. Remember! I knew to dig for wild onions just from the shallot tops!" she offered triumphantly in her defense.

"Hai, I remember. I'm very impressed with your wilderness survival skills, now please throw up one of those mushrooms, Kuri-san," he remarked pleasantly, apparently not connecting wild onions and wild mushrooms at all.

Kuri almost scowled. She felt like throwing a rock at him, not a mushroom. Here she had spent the last hour gathering up wild mushrooms for their dinner while he slept in the top of that tree! Oh, he had some nerve to question her ability to identify simple plants. Mushrooms were plants, weren't they? She thought so. Anyway, that was beside the point. She knew for a fact that the mushrooms that she had gathered were not some bubbling reeking poison. She was not that much of an idiot. Still, he expected her to chuck one of her handpicked mushrooms at him so he might decide whether they were fit to eat or not so she might as well keep him happy.

She put the rest of the mushrooms down and chose a nice fat one for their posterboy. After making sure Soujiro knew her intention, she tossed the mushroom at him, aiming the oddly shaped projectile as best she could. It went a little high, but he had no difficulty in catching it, she was pleased to see. That at least meant the thing wasn't wasted, provided he didn't come to any fool conclusions about its edibility. 

"Baka," she muttered to herself and then she spied a small marble sized stone on the riverbank at her feet. Remembering her earlier momentary urge to chuck a rock at him to knock some sense into him, Kuri bent to pick it up, pretending that she was picking something off the bottom of her foot. Soujiro was apparently so engrossed in testing the mushroom's edibility that he paid her no heed. She smiled impishly as she took careful aim and then threw the pebble at his exposed back, knowing it was sure to ping him. That'd teach him to question her obvious wood sense, she thought smugly as she let the little stone go.

It whizzed true to its mark, but then at the last second, Soujiro shifted absently to the side and the pebble flew past him. After a moment, she heard a very unsatisfying splash. Unable to contain her disappointment, Kuri cried out.

"Hey! No fair dodging!"

Soujrio glanced back at her and raised an eyebrow, "No fair throwing rocks in the first place."

"Well, you started it," she said indignantly, sticking her tongue out at him, "Baka," she added under her breath and waited his appraisal of the mushrooms with a less than pleasant expression.

"Hai," he sweatdropped nodding in that unassuming way of his, "I started it."

He could almost see the little storm clouds gathering over her head. When Kuri got emotional she was not subtle. 

"Hey! Now don't you be that way!" she cried and she shook her fist at his dangling feet.

"What way?" he asked, sincerely baffled. He had no idea what she was talking about. He had after all, just taken all the blame onto himself.

"That 'I know it's really Kuri's fault but I'm going to pretend it's mine so she'll shut up' way!" she retorted.

"Well, if you knew it was your fault then why did you say it was mine?" he asked curiously, peering down at her again. He turned just in time to dodge another rock that she had lobbed at him in retaliation to his latest innocent observation.

"Stop dodging!" she cried angrily, "I didn't say it was my fault. I said I wanted you to stop pretending that it was your fault even though you think it was my fault just to shut me up! I'm not so stupid that I don't realize that you're just pretending to think it's your fault while it's really my fault. Do you really think that you're such a good actor that I can't tell when you're just pretending that it's your fault? I never think that you believe that it's really your fault when you tell me that it is. I know you really think that it's my fault!" she finished, waving her arms irately. 

He tried to digest the gist of what she had said. It was sometimes difficult to understand her when she talked in such a roundabout way. Still, he was fairly sure of her message, and her irate hand motions did more than get the point across. He was happy that he was safely in the tree where he could dodge both the irrational comments and the rocks thrown at him easily. However, as funny as she seemed gesticulating and ranting angrily on the ground, he still preferred her happy and calm, so he once again sought a way to distract her.

"Good job on picking the mushrooms, Kuri-san," he offered her his most peaceful and non-combative smile. He had learned that this smile either put her off completely or triggered her nurturing 'eat-your-vegetables' side. 

As he had hoped, Kuri grinned brightly, "I told you so! I told you I know my mushrooms!"

Soujiro nodded pleasantly, "Now you can go and wash them. Maybe if you wrap them in wet leaves they'll stay nice and cool until dinner time."

"Hai hai!" she responded obediently and gathered up her mushrooms again. The riverbank where they were currently situated was mostly quite steep, however there was one smoothly inclined slope of clay that seemed like a perfect place to wash the mushrooms. She bounced as she walked, and she was not prepared for the slickness of the clay when she stepped easily onto the slope. Her bare foot slipped completely out from under her and she landed on her side, losing her bundle of mushrooms as she tumbled awkwardly down the slick muddy slope and made a loud splash in the water.

She didn't have time to grab for the bank before the powerful current swept her away from the shore. She tried her best to stay afloat, but the current was strong and the undertow fierce, and this being her first time swimming, it was not altogether surprising that she panicked.

"Taskute!" she cried, as the water swept her along out into the deep middle waters and away from the safety of the shallows.

Soujiro, who had once again been idly daydreaming in the haze, snapped to attention the second her heard the splash. Assessing the situation in a split second, he leapt out of the tree with no second thoughts, leaving his katana and iaitou tied securely to a branch. He could always come back for them later. He landed on the ground lightly, taking most of the impact in the natural shock absorbers of his bare feet.

He moved his body in one smooth motion and prepared to dive into the swift water himself when suddenly he heard another splash. His attention immediately snapped to the cause of this second splash, a dark, sleek head and shoulders that were making there way swiftly to Kuri's aid. Soujiro sighed with relief as the swimmer latched onto her and began to tow her back to shore. There was no reason for him to throw himself into the water now, he'd only hinder the person who was bringing her in, but still his protective nature flared and he had to stop himself twice from going to help. The most he allowed himself was to wade out into the shallows of the river and help the man bring her on shore. Doing so got him covered in the same slick mud that Kuri had fallen prey to, although he managed to retain his balance.

Kuri was a little water-logged and filthy from her tumble down the muddy slope, but other than that, she was none the worse for wear. Despite all her yelling and flailing about, she seemed to have swallowed very little water, likely due to the fact that she'd been rescued so quickly. Still, despite the fact that she seemed all right, he immediately put a protective arm around her and drew her slightly behind him at the same time bowing formally to the tall stocky man who had pulled her out of the river.

He was an amiable looking man, not particularly handsome, but with pleasant features and a broad face. He returned Soujiro's bow.

"Arigatou gozaimashta," spoke Soujiro, in his soft musical voice, "Seta Soujiro desu. Hajimemashite."

The man grinned pleasantly, "Mataemon Shinji desu. I'm very happy to make your acquaintance and even happier to do you a service. I was just lucky enough to see her when she slipped. That's why I was able to get to her so fast," he peeped at Kuri, who in turn peeped out from behind Soujiro.

Soujiro smiled absently and then feigned embarrassment, "Forgive me, let me introduce my wife, Seta Kuri," he remarked casually, gesturing to the girl behind him.

Kuri froze absolutely stock still and blinked several times. She knew that he had not just said what she thought he had said. She knew it. It must have been a hallucination from swallowing too much water. She'd never known anyone to have hallucinations from swallowing too much water, but she did not doubt for a second that this had just happened to her. After all, there was no possible way that he would have said what she thought he had just said.

"Newlyweds?" the man asked, grinning broadly

Kuri almost swallowed her tongue when Soujiro nodded.

"Hai, we're going on a walking tour and I was fairly certain that there weren't any inns nearby, so we decided to set up camp by this river. That was apparently not a good idea," he sweatdropped, apparently for his 'wife's' inability to take care of herself.

Shinji winked at him, "Well then it's certainly a lucky thing that I came along to check my nets just now. My house is just over that ridge. You're welcome to come and stay with us, I'm sure my wife won't mind. After all," he remarked, gesturing to their clothing, "You're going to need baths after that tumble in the mud and I wouldn't suggest another dip in the water just here," he laughed at it was a friendly sound.

"Well, we wouldn't want to impose, Mataemon-san . . . " Soujiro began.

Shinji cut him off, "I insist! It'll be nice to have company and you look like respectable folks."

Soujiro bowed again in acceptance of the proffered hospitality, "Thank you, that's very nice of you to say."

Kuri was completely dumbfounded by the two men smiling and laughing at each other. She continued to be dumbfounded while Soujiro packed their belongings back into their small travelling sack and convinced her to put her dry tabi and sandals back on. The most frustrating part of this was the fact that Shinji was never out of earshot long enough for Kuri to question Soujiro. She wanted to whack him over the head with his fishing pole. He never told her _anything_. He _always_ did things without asking. She _never_ knew what was going on. Still, considering their current situation, she decided it was best to just meekly follow his directions until she could get him alone somewhere and figure out what the heck was going on. Not that she found the prospect of being his wife, even for just pretend particularly repulsive. In truth it excited her and made her extremely nervous at the same time, however, she was content to let her anger completely roil those emotions over because she was finally fed up with him never telling her anything. Plus, she was fairly sure he'd fed the pleasant man who'd dragged her out of the river that story just so he wouldn't ask questions about the two of them travelling together. She knew that he'd done it before on numerous occasions, but this was the first time he'd ever claimed her as his wife. That somehow made it very different. That somehow made it much more important. Especially since he was generally as affectionate as a lamppost. For all his wonderful logical calculations and machinations he really seemed completely clueless as to why she desired his attention most of the time. He really could be a total idiot.

"Baka," she muttered again, under her breath, but when Soujiro turned to glance behind, his comfortable smile in place, she smiled sweetly and followed the two men quietly along a path that lead south, over the ridge.


	2. What Comes of Honesty: The Girl Seta Sou...

I'll Do My Crying in the Rain

I'll Do My Crying in the Rain

Chapter Two -- What Comes of Honesty: The Girl Seta Soujiro Loves

By Gabi

The farm, Kuri saw, when they finally came upon it, was a pleasant and tidy little place.  The house buildings stood a bit back from the stable and stockyard and beside the house was a neat little garden, which Kuri could tell even at a glance was carefully tended.  The stockyard was a little muddy and rutted, but that was to be expected from the light rain that had fallen the previous morning.  All in all, Kuri would have likely enjoyed their stay at the farm greatly, were she not completely preoccupied with trying to figure out what Soujiro was thinking.

He proved as benignly unreadable as always, and even though among all the people in Japan, she was the one best suited to reading his moods now, there were times when he was as mysterious in his motives as a cat.  Sometimes she even wondered if he had motives for half the things he did.  It didn't seem to her that he did, many times, although she wasn't privy to any of his secrets either. It was as if Soujiro were the leader of some secret society and she had to pass all sorts of strange tests and rituals before he would so much as let her know what they were having for breakfast.  He had once so much as told her (of course he didn't actually tell her, she had to infer it from what he said, but then again, he didn't actually ever tell her anything, so it's not as if she had gone out on a limb assuming what she had assumed) that it was for her own safety that he never told her anything, and while this had pacified her for a while, she being the trusting sort and he being the man that she loved, there were times when Kuri got fed up and seriously doubted the danger of her knowing what they were going to have for breakfast.  This was one of those times.

So as she followed meekly behind Soujiro, as he followed at a relaxed pace behind Mataemon Shinji, she found herself muddled, confused, and frustrated, and as she had had quite a long, silent walk to brood over her frustrations, by the time they actually got to the farmhouse, she was in no mood to be fed and then shooed to bed.  She was also quite aware of all the little tricks Soujiro employed to keep her in a pleasant mood, although some of them slipped by her until she reflected upon them.  She was also in no mood to be pacified like a child.  She wanted answers.  No, she wanted his answers.  He had all of hers, guarded carefully away from the perils of the world, to comfort him at the strangest times.  He had also told her this one rainy night when they had spent a miserable night huddled under some bushes.  Well, he hadn't actually told her this either, but she had inferred.  Being with him had made her very good at living on inferences.

But it wasn't really fair.  She offered him reassurance of her feelings at every chance that presented itself.  He offered, well, he offered himself, nothing more, and nothing less, no, that wasn't right either.  He offered a lot less, because Kuri gave herself openly and honestly, while she had to guess and infer and hope and despair as terribly subtle emotions played across his face.  Was he really giving her anything at all?  Well, yes and no, but there were times that Kuri ardently wished that he would just trust her and offer a little more of the yes than of the no.

When they finally trudged onto the front porch of the farm house, Mataemon's wife, Tamako was waiting for them with a lantern.  She was surprised and pleased at the guests and seemed to Kuri to be a very jolly matron indeed.  She ushered the three of them in with little pomp and announced that dinner would be served immediately.  Her husband tried to protest about how there were chores and how their guests needed to bathe but she would hear nothing of it.  The chores and baths could wait a few minutes for a hurried supper.  Tamako seemed like a no-nonsense woman, and Kuri immediately liked her.  She dished up delicious, steaming hot food and begged that Kuri excuse the disarray of their meal.  She explained that they often had a swift, impromptu supper in the fall months so that there was time enough after it to finish the chores before dusk.  Kuri nodded and agreed that it was a good plan and that she was used to such suppers as she had also grown up on a farm.  She politely thanked Tamako and Shinji and then settled again into a brooding silence as she tried to put everything she wanted to say to Soujiro once she got him alone in order.  She paid little more than cursory attention to the conversation at the table, although Soujrio spoke frequently.  She paid enough attention to know that he didn't talk about anything important.  If Soujiro noticed that she hadn't eaten much or spoken hardly at all, he didn't say anything.  After dinner, Kuri helped clear the dishes as Soujiro went out to help Shinji with the chores.  

After she finished helping Tamako inside the house, she stole outside, even though she was fairly sure that sweet-tempered, meek wives were not supposed to help with farm chores.  Tamako let her go with a knowing smile on her face.  After all, she too had once been newly married.  Meanwhile, Kuri was determined to speak with Soujiro alone.  She had to; there were things that needed to be said, and she was willing to shovel manure to get the chance to say them.

When she found Soujiro, he was in the barn, mucking out a stall.  She crept in quietly and scouted for Mataemon, then stopped, suddenly unsure of what to do next.  Soujiro gave no sign that he had seen her.  He kept to his work, raking out the soiled straw so new straw could be laid.  He had rolled and tied his hakama at his knees, although she was unsure how they could get any dirtier that they were now.  Swallowing, Kuri gathered her courage and tentatively approached him.

He looked up when she drew near and didn't seem surprised to see her.  He finished mucking out the stall and then leaned his rake against the wall before turning to speak with her.

"Daijoubu ka, Kuri-san?  You didn't eat much at dinner.  That's not like you."

So he had at least noticed.  That made her feel marginally better.

"I'm not sick," she began, and tried to think of what she needed to say first.

"That's good," he smiled absently and then innocently observed, "I'm glad.  I was worried that maybe those mushrooms you found _were_ poison and that they had made you sick."

Kuri kept her temper under control, although the deadpan look she gave him garnished with clouded brows was enough to clue him in that he had said something wrong.  He was about to attempt to pacify her when Mataemon emerged from the stockyard.

"Tamako says the bath is ready, Seta-san," he offered good-naturedly, "She sent me out to find your wife."

Soujiro nodded and Kuri opened her mouth to protest.  She wasn't finished talking to him yet.  The bath could wait.

"Matte," she cried even as he politely took her by the arm and led her away.  He turned back to Mataemon as he left.

"I'll be back in a few minutes to help finish the chores, Mataemon-san, I just need to make sure that Kuri has everything that she needs."

The farmer smiled and raised a hand in agreement before picking up the rake that Soujiro had leaned against the wall.

Soujiro pointedly ignored all of Kuri's protests.  Whatever she wanted to talk to him about could wait until after she had a bath.  He was certain that running around in wet clothes for the better part of the day, despite how warm it was, had to be unhealthy.  The sooner she took a bath, the sooner she could put on clean, dry clothes.  He was certain this would raise her spirits at least some degree.

Kuri, on the other hand, was sure that Soujiro was pointedly ignoring all her protests because he simply didn't want to talk to her.  He certainly didn't understand what she was trying to tell him.  He just walked her up the steps of the bathhouse and presumed that a nice warm bath would make everything better.

"But Soujiro-kun!" she protested, wringing her hands in frustration.

He raised a finger and placed it on her lips with the same carelessness she observed whenever he touched her, "Whatever it is, it can wait until after you've had your bath.  The water is getting cold, Kuri-san."

"But!"

"After your bath," he insisted firmly, and refused to budge or listen until she begrudgingly went into the bathhouse.

Kuri waited for several minutes in the dim interior of the washing room before poking her head back outside the door.  Seta Soujiro apparently had no idea who he was dealing with.  She had to talk to him privately and she was going to talk to him privately, even if he didn't want to listen.  After briefly scanning the yard, she opened the door and tiptoed down the steps.  She was on the last step when he spoke.

"After your bath."

He was leaning against a tree at the edge of the yard, half concealed in shadows.  His arms were folded comfortably against his chest and he was watching the bathhouse with much interest.  Seta Soujiro knew exactly who he was dealing with.

"I'll be here when you're finished bathing, Kuri-san.  There's no rush.  We can talk then."

Kuri opened her mouth one last time to try and reason with him, but then closed it.  The terms of their meeting had been set.  He wasn't going to listen until she had taken her bath.  She sighed and then turned and walked dejectedly back up the steps and into the bathhouse.

As she undressed, she attempted to reason out his actions.  He rarely gave her orders or ultimatums, and only then when their lives depended on her obedience.  She vividly remembered the last time he had given her a command.  His voice had been soft, deadly soft, and they had been standing in a Kyoto alley late at night.  She had knelt in the shadows, unable to move, frozen in place as she watched him duel in the moonlight.

No, whenever he wanted her to do something, he asked her politely.  That was one thing the boy had in abundance, politeness.  She wondered if perhaps he had something on his mind, and that was why he had demanded she bathe so he had time to think about it.  Not that it mattered.  He wouldn't tell her about it even if he did have something on his mind.  She sighed and tried to think of happier things as she concentrated on cleaning herself.

Eventually, she managed to dismiss much of what was bothering her from her mind.  It did feel good to take a real bath in a real bathhouse.  It had been some time since she'd had one.  Mostly she just had to make due with rinsing off in rivers whenever she knew that he was otherwise occupied.  The water was chill, but it invigorated her, and after some strenuous scrubbing, she left her dirty clothes in a heap and settled into the warm furo in the next room.

Her ears pricked once, as the outer door opened and Tamako called, "Just getting your dirty clothes dearie!"

Kuri called back a grateful thank you and then settled a bit deeper into the water, drawing her knees to her chest and letting the warmth of the water soak into her.  Although she had been in a great hurry to talk to Soujiro before her bath, now that she had settled in the water, she was loathe to leave it.

Kuri sighed even as she wriggled her toes in the water.  Could he even understand how she felt?

*

Soujiro remained standing half in the shadows watching the door of the bathhouse for some time, and idly reflected upon their day.  He was still unclear as to why Kuri was upset, but he had a feeling he was going to find out about it soon enough.  He was about to return to helping Mataemon with the chores when he suddenly realized that he had escorted Kuri to the bath without benefit of a towel or robe.  Somewhat distressed at his oversight, he left his post for a few minutes to retrieve a spare towel and robe.  He met Mataemon coming around the side of the barn and the cheerful, burly farmer informed him that the chores were done and thanked him for his help.  He then escorted Soujiro to his wife who gave him a towel and a robe and remarked rather evasively about the bath being unoccupied.  

Soujiro had to laugh at himself as he started back to the bath.  Kuri was more cunning that he gave her credit for.  She'd just waited until he'd abandoned his watchful post and had then snuck out to find him.  Perhaps she had merely snuck out to prove that she could, it was the sort of thing that she would do, although he was still confused as to why she wanted to avoid her bath so much.  Still, there was no use wasting hot water.  If Kuri had snuck off, then he might as well bathe while the water was warm.  Later, when Kuri came looking for him, he'd simply usher her back to the bathhouse and build another fire.  He even resolved to let her say whatever she wanted to say before her bath.  If it were that important to her, then stalling her bath for a few minutes (or a few hours, considering the way Kuri talked) wouldn't hurt anything.

Sure enough, the door to the bath was standing slightly ajar, and when Soujiro peeped in he found neither Kuri nor Kuri's dirty clothes.

"That's my Kuri," he laughed softly to himself, and then set about undressing.

*

In the back room of the bath, Kuri heard slight ambient noises, but brushed them off as the small building settling and creaking.  It was not like there was any way someone could walk in on her anyway, not with Soujiro standing guard in front of the building.  Still, just to be sure, she squeezed up against herself and sank a little lower into the tub of warm water.

*

After some hard scrubbing, Soujiro finally got all the muck and grime off of his body.  He rinsed his hair one final time and then packed the soaps away, back into the small wooden bucket where he had found them in the first place.  He stood and rolled the muscles in his back.  They were a little sore from the carrying and raking he'd done.  Those muscles in his back were ones he rarely used, even when he gave Kuri the occasional piggy-back ride, so it was understandable that they were now a little sore with disuse.  It had been years since he'd had to haul bales of rice bigger than he was, after all.

He dismissed this thought absently.  He had too much to worry about already.  Kuri was upset for some reason.  He didn't have time to spend dwelling on his past.  His present was more important.  

Leaving his robe hanging from a peg behind the door, Soujrio picked up the clean, dry towel and pushed open the door to the back room without a second thought.  It took a few seconds for his brain to register that he was not alone in the room.

*

Kuri responded quicker, although it was not to any great effect.  She made a choked, surprised sound and her eyes widened more than she thought possible.  Soujiro was standing in the doorway.  Soujiro was standing in the doorway and he was _not wearing any clothes_.  The only scrap of cloth he had with him was a towel, which thankfully (or unthankfully) concealed his man bits.  He was staring at her in the same dumbfounded idiot way she was sure that she was staring at him.

All the sudden, he seemed to recover himself and he cried, "Sumimasen!" and snapped his eyes shut, "I thought you were out of the bath!"

She blinked and finally recovered herself as well, but he spoke again before she could.

"Sumimasen, Kuri-san.  I'll be going now," he turned on his heel and Kuri suddenly realized that here of all places she was guaranteed to have a private audience with him, and circumstances being what they were, he might actually listen.  Before she had time to reconsider or lose her nerve, she called him back.

"Wait," her voice trembled and he froze in place, as if disbelieving that she had called him to stop.  Kuri took a deep breath and then tried again, "I need to talk to you, Soujiro.  I need to talk to you and I need for you to listen.  Please."

He started to ask what was so important that couldn't wait until they were both clothed, but decided better of it.  There was something in Kuri's voice that simply told him that it was that important.

"Hai, I'm listening, Kuri-san.  Does this have something to do with why you've been so upset today?" he turned back towards her out of politeness, although he kept his eyes closed.

She nodded tensely and realized that he couldn't see her.  Her voice trembled as she spoke again.

"Soujiro, we can't do this if you won't look at me."

Soujiro shifted slightly on his feet and she could tell that once again her words had surprised him.

"Sumimasen, Kuri-san.  I didn't look because I thought it would make you uncomfortable," his voice was soft, but she could feel an undercurrent to it, and it made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

"I understand.  Thank you, but I need for you to look at me so you can try and understand what I have to say," her own voice wavered in a way quite uncharacteristic.

He nodded and then cautiously opened his eyes.  They stared at each other for another breathless moment before Kuri blushed and looked down.  After a few moments of awkward silence, she started to speak.

"I don't really know where to start, so I'll try to tell you what I feel.  It's hard.  I've been trying to work out little speeches to you all day, but none of them turn out any good.  I'll just have to trust that you'll be able to understand," she took a deep breath, "I've been traveling with you for a long time now, and we've been through a lot together.  I'd like to think that we've grown to trust each other.  I know that I trust you.  I've always trusted you, and I'd do anything that you asked me to do, even if you didn't give me a reason, but sometimes, sometimes I wish you would."

"You wish I would do what?" he asked, his voice still soft.  She knew he was looking at her, but suddenly, it no longer mattered.

"I wish you would give me reasons.  You never tell me anything.  You never trust me to do anything, on my own.  You never ask my opinion seriously.  You never tell me anything that you're afraid might upset me, even if I have a right to know.  I wish you had asked," she had worked her self up to the point that now she fighting tears, her hand brushing against her eyes in a sorry attempt to keep him from seeing.

"You wish that I had asked what?" he prompted, wishing for some way to comfort her, but unwilling to go any closer while they were in their current state of undress.

"I wish that you had asked me before you told Mataemon-san that I was you wife.  It hurt me so much that you could just tell him that and not think about what it meant.  It hurt even more because you never show me that you care about me, I just have to live hoping that you do," she shuddered under a sob that she barely contained.

"What do you mean, Kuri?  After I fought with Noriko-san, I came back to you.  I'm always worried about you.  I think about you all the time.  I've always protected you . . ."

Suddenly the words that Yoshida had offered her several months before fell into her grasp and she couldn't stop herself from shooting them at Soujiro now.  He had hurt her so much, and he still didn't understand.

"Love and protect are not the same.  They're two separate words and they mean two different things."

He was silent for several moments, and she wondered if she had hurt him so much that he didn't want to speak to her anymore.  Finally, he spoke.

"Yes, I suppose you're right.  They do mean different things."

Finally she couldn't contain her frustration any longer and she sobbed out, "I love you!"

She buried her face in her arms and hugged her knees to her chest.  She wanted to disappear.   Nothing had happened like she had wanted it to happen.  Everything was falling apart.  Then he spoke, and his voice was warm, and thoughtful, as if he had discovered some great secret.

"I know.  I think I've known since the beginning.  Still, it feels nice to hear you say it."

She wanted to cry in confusion, but couldn't as she was already crying.  What did he mean by that?  Did he mean that he loved her too, or just that he found her comforting?  Did he want her?  Did he love her?  Was she just his friend?  She had to know.  After confessing herself like that, she needed to know.  She deserved to know.

Timidly, she looked at him again, trying to read his impossible features, and when she couldn't, she knew that she had to expose herself again, if she wanted any hope of a response.

"Do you," she began softly, then stuttered because she was unsure how to phrase it, "Do you want me to be your woman?"

She didn't know what to expect as a response.  Once again he shifted positions, and he closed his eyes.  

Then he laughed, and she felt as if she were being torn in two.  It was not a harsh laugh.  It was sweet and gentle, but it was still a laugh.  She hushed herself completely and waited for him to speak, hoping against hope that he would say something that would quell her fears and ease her pain.

"Iie, Kuri.  I don't want you to be my woman.  You're not ready.  I don't want you to be my woman," he repeated softly, smiling gently, "But I need you to be my girl.  Please, just keep being my girl."

His girl.  His child.  She was a child.  He thought of her as a child.  His sister.  His girl.  She wanted to curl up and die, or hide some place far, far away.  After all they'd been through, she'd hoped against hope that he would love her, not just as a friend, not just as a companion.  She wanted him to love her as a woman.

Just as she'd always known.  She'd dared herself to hope, but she'd always known, really, deep inside.  He didn't think of her as a woman.  He probably barely even thought of her as a girl.  She was ragged, often dirty, cavorting about in boy's clothing.  She had no manners, no tact, no grace, no beauty.  She was just a child.  She was just a ragged, homeless child that he took pity on and kept because she comforted him.  She made him feel as if he were doing something good by keeping a ragged little street urchin safe.  She was his child.

All these thoughts flashed through her mind in a few seconds as she stared at him.  Finally, he cocked his head to the left and asked softly,

"Do you understand?"

There was only one answer she could give him, although it took every ounce of her willpower to keep her voice steady and even.

"Yes."

He smiled, "I'm glad."

There was another tense span of seconds and the he spoke rather awkwardly.

"I had better be going now, otherwise Mataemon-san might think we're up to something," he laughed softly, and it stung her, "Don't be too long."

She nodded dumbly and watched him go.  She kept herself perfectly still until she heard the outer bath door shut and latch, then she could no longer keep up the pretense of strength and just let herself cry.

*  
  
Soujiro didn't see her again that night.  Somehow she managed to sneak past him after her bath, and when he finally found her, she was curled up in the blanket on one side of the doubled sleeping mat.  She was curled up in a ball, and her hands were fisted tightly in the blanket.  He wondered how she could be comfortable, but then shrugged.  She was apparently comfortable doing many things that he was not comfortable with yet.  

His gaze was soft, as it always was when he watched her sleep.  He didn't have to worry about her when she was asleep.  He didn't have to worry about what she'd think when she saw him watching her.  Of course, now he really didn't have to worry about that either.  He smiled at her fondly.  She was much braver about speaking her feelings than he was, but now that they were being honest with each other, he hoped it would get better.  

He knelt beside the mat and watched her steady breathing for several minutes, then folded down the blanket on his edge of the futon and eased himself under it, being careful not disturb her.  After he settled, and after he was sure that she was still sleeping soundly, he looped his arm around her waist and pulled her snugly against him.  She made a little crying sound that he was sure was in response to some strange dream, and then was still.  He lay his head against her still drying hair and let his nose barely graze the bottom of her earlobe.  He sighed gently against the stillness of the night, and then, content with her peaceful and rhythmic breathing, Seta Soujiro slept.

*


	3. All in the Family: The Path They Walk Al...

I'll Do My Crying in the Rain  
  
Chapter 3 -- All in the family: The path they walk alone, they walk together  
  
By Gabi  
  
The first thing Soujiro was aware of was the peaceful warmth that the blankets afforded him against the icy air that chilled his nose. He wrinkled his nose, but that did little to warm it, so he edged down a little so the heavy blankets covered him nearly to his eyes. The chill of the morning air made him confident that the Indian summer was over and that with the first cold snap, autumn had truly arrived.   
  
The second thing that Soujiro became aware of was that Kuri had shifted and rolled in her sleep, and in doing so, had curled against his chest. Her cheek was warm against his chest that was only partially covered by his borrowed robe. Her head lay pillowed in the hollow of his right shoulder and her neck and back followed a simple smooth curve that he had fitted his right arm against absently, almost familiarly, when she had turned.  
  
Her hair was mussed and had fallen into her face. It was loose around her neck and it fell down over her arms, which he saw she had curled against herself as if she were some small animal. He studied her intently and then brought his free hand to her face to gently brush back the hair that was obscuring it. With a feather touch he tucked most of the errant hair back behind her ear and in doing so discovered that while tossing about in her sleep she had managed to pull her own borrowed robe all out of shape and expose one pale rounded shoulder and a tantalizing bit of soft flesh that was partially concealed by the natural fall of the robe before it got too interesting.  
  
He forced himself to close his eyes for a few moments. When he opened them, he lightly pulled the loose fabric of the robe back over her shoulder although he could not ignore the single tremor in his hand as he did so. Knowing the old adage about idle hands and devil's workshops, he found It necessary to gently grip the edge of the blanket to keep himself from becoming too interested in the contours of the robe.  
  
He had made this decision some time ago, when he had first began to seriously yearn to lose himself against her, inside of her, to claim her completely. He couldn't do that to her, he had decided. His own childhood had been taken from him. He wouldn't end hers prematurely. There were also obvious risks involved as well. Soujiro was quite aware of where babies came from, and he had no intention of fathering a child any time in the near future. It was the only logical thing to do.  
  
Of course, it had been much easier to come to this conclusion when he had been sitting up by the campfire alone, watching her sleep. Circumstances were altered somewhat when the girl in question was sleeping in his arms clad in nothing but a loose robe that was too big for her. This was not even taking into account the previous evening when she had declared rather adamantly that she loved him while she sat in a tub of water absolutely naked. It was as if fate were conspiring against him. Every moment seemed to bring a new challenge to his willpower and there were times that he had no other recourse than to completely shut himself off, rather than do something that he would regret. He was sure these instances confused Kuri to no end, but he was at a loss as to how to politely explain it to her without letting too many details slip.  
  
Still, she had surprised him with her question the previous evening, and he had had the greatest difficulty in exercising restraint. She was hurt. She needed to be comforted. She was begging him to touch her in just the way he ached to, but she didn't know what she was asking. She was a girl. She was a sixteen-year-old girl under his protection and he was firmly of the opinion that she was completely unprepared for what she asked for. She hadn't really thought about it, he was sure. It was just something that had come out when she had worked herself up over his lack of personal affection. Well, there was a middle ground between the two extremes, and he resolved he would try to be more obviously affectionate, although he had no idea where to begin. This would have been a question to ask Yumi, although he dismissed that thought quickly from his mind, because the thought of Kuri and Yumi in the same breath disturbed him, and he wasn't sure why.  
  
Suddenly, he heard a muffled clatter in the front room of the house and peeped out from under the covers to see a pale dawn through the slits in the window coverings. The farmer was awake. It was time for morning chores, although Soujiro was loathe to leave the warmth and security of the nest of blankets for the chill caked mud of the stockyard. He let his eyes wander over her again and another tremor in his free hand made it obvious what choice he had to make. It was beginning to be too much, even for his resolve.   
  
He lifted her gently, so as not to wake her, and slid his shoulder out from under her head. He tried not to let too much cold air under the blankets as he abandoned his haven and threw himself to the mercy of the icy October air. After making sure he hadn't disturbed her and that she still slept heavily, he discarded his robe and dressed quickly in his freshly laundered clothes. He folded the robe and left it on top of a couple of extra blankets that were stacked in a corner of the room and absently reminded himself to tell the farmer's wife not to wake Kuri. He thought she deserved the sleep, after the harrowing day she had had previously. He might even have time after the chores to sit for a few minutes and watch her sleep undisturbed.   
  
These were the simple pleasures he entertained as he softly slid the door to the room shut and left to face the watery light of the farmyard dawn.  
  
*  
  
Kuri dowsed awake to find herself curled in a little ball, knotted in a pile of heavy blankets, and yearning for something she couldn't quite place. She poked her head out from under the blankets to find that it was mid-morning, and the sun was shining brightly, although it had done very little to warm the air. After a cursory glance around the room, Kuri spotted Soujiro's robe folded neatly on a stack of blankets. She felt somewhat gratified to know that he had at least slept in the room, but there was a quiet part of her, deep inside, that was still aching from the rejection he had glibly offered while smiling that damnable smile of his. Still, even if he didn't . . . love her, at least she could find comfort in being near him. He had at least granted her that, and after living on so little affection for the majority of her life, she found that she could force herself to be content with it.   
  
She felt a little hollow inside, and as she glanced over at the space beside her, she couldn't help wondering what it would have been like if his answer had been different, what it would have been like to spend the night in his arms and warm to his gentle, patient touch. She squeezed her eyes shut and pressed the heels of her palms against her face. She couldn't think about that. The best thing now was to try and go on the way they had been. Maybe someday he would call for her to fulfill the very role she yearned for. Until then, she could content herself with scraps.  
  
She shook her head and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. The air was chill, but she still ventured from the tangled nest of blankets. It was far too late in the morning for her to be sleeping, and she felt guilty. She knew that everyone else on the farm had been up working for hours while she had laid-abed sleeping.  
  
She pulled the loose cotton robe around her and then padded quietly over to the corner where her hakama had gi had been neatly folded and laid. She began to undo the ties that held the hakama crisply in shape, but a voice behind her nearly startled her off her feet.  
  
"Not that today. Wear your yukata."  
  
She turned, startled, to find him standing almost behind her. He could be so silent when he wanted to be. He'd scared her almost out of her skin. Swallowing hard, she finally managed to settle back down on her feet after flailing forward. He did not seem perturbed and apparently felt no need to apologize for startling her, because he requested no forgiveness. He simply stood behind her, arms folded inside his gi, and waited for her to acknowledge him.  
  
She glanced at the open sack that stood near her feet. It contained all their possessions, which, while they were scant few, were far above and beyond anything she had possessed previous to becoming his companion. The garment of which he spoke lay folded and tied neatly in paper, underneath her small collection of "pretty rocks" and a small painted wooden dog that Soujiro had bought for her at a Shinto Shrine outside of Kyoto.  
  
The yukata was actually the only change of clothes that she had. He had wandered off from her one day earlier in the summer on the pretense of business and when he had returned he had brought her a treasure tied up with brown string. The garment itself was beautiful: heavy layers of cotton lined with silk. It was heavier than a traditional yukata but lighter than a kimono, making it a much more versatile piece of clothing. The embroidery on it was intricate and lovely, brown, gold, and red leaves of autumn, along with a scattering of harvest nuts. Kuri was extremely doubtful that they could have ever afforded the beautiful garment had they bought it from a seamstress, not in a month of Sundays. Something in his eyes made her too wary to ask what personal favors he had called up to get the yukata, but he had seemed satisfied with her ecstatic response. For her, the yukata was just as important as the crooked hand stitching on the right shoulder of his gi. He had chosen it for her. It was special.  
  
"Why?" she asked quietly, calmly staring him down.  
  
"Tanabata," he spoke softly, meeting her calm gaze with a complacent smile of his own, "We're going to a festival today."  
  
*  
  
She didn't really know anything about the festival. Soujiro had explained a few things to her as they went, but the festival wasn't one she was familiar with. It was a star festival, he had spoken softly even as he kept her in step beside him. She could tell that he was purposefully limiting his stride so that she could walk beside him and not behind him, as she normally did. His left hand fidgeted with the frayed threads of his sleeve as he spoke, something she noticed, but was not sure he was aware of. She wondered what was on his mind, although she was certain that there were few chances in hell that he was going to tell her anything.  
  
"Tanabata is the festival of the stars. This is the only night of the year that Hikoboshi the cow herd can see the woman that he loves, Orihime the weaver," he glanced off to the left side of the road as if he saw something extremely interesting.  
  
Kuri rolled her eyes. He was being less than subtle. Something was preying upon his mind in such a way that he seemed at a loss to conceal it.  
  
"It's also a festival of good luck and good wishes. You make a wish and then write it on a strip of paper and hang it from your door. If you pray with your whole heart, then the wish will come true," he coughed and seemed distracted by the left side of the road again, "There are some other traditions about Tanabata, but they're not very important."  
  
She cast a sidelong glace at him, but he only smiled at her blandly. She refrained from comment.  
  
They traveled along the road for a little while longer, and then Kuri was forced to stop flat when they came upon a sizable mud hole that had created a trough in the road. She made an exasperated sound and then bent to roll up her yukata so it wouldn't get muddy as she picked her way around the side of the road. Before she could straighten she felt an arm at the back of her knees and another against her back and she was swept up and deposited neatly on her feet again. She blinked and looked around and found herself on the other side of the puddle although she hadn't felt him jump.  
  
She looked at him for a long moment. He touched her so casually, as if it didn't mean a thing to him. As if it were the most natural thing in the world for him to do. It frustrated her, and just seemed to drive home the fact that he found her non-threatening in a physical sense. She was a girl-child that you could pick up and deposit like a sack of potatoes, not a woman whose permission you had to ask. There was nothing improper about him hauling her around. She was like his sister . . . but something inside her tingled about the way he left his arm around her waist for a spare moment longer than it needed to stay.  
  
He drew back of course, like he always did, back into his shell, back into his own personal space, away from her, away from contact. She sighed. It was going to be a long day.  
  
"Tired?" he asked curiously, at her sigh, "I could carry you the rest of the way."  
  
Her brows clouded. Here he was again, offering her all the comforts that a child would want. She felt the urge to throw a rock at him coming back on, "I'm fine. I'm not tired. I'll walk, thanks."  
  
He nodded and there was an awkward silence before they started walking again. Once they were on the move again, it took them little time to get to Sendai town, the site of the festival. Sendai was a medium sized town, gaily festooned for the festival. People thronged the streets examining the beautiful decorations, buying trinkets and keepsakes from vendors set up on the wooden sidewalks, and generally enjoying themselves. There was such an atmosphere of merriment that Kuri had difficulty staying moody and was soon hopping about and chirruping to Soujiro about some of the paper kites and streamers that were flying over the town.  
  
The world was bright and lively, and it was easy for Kuri to forget her own sadness. There was so much to see that she wasn't quite sure where to start. She dragged Soujiro down one of the more crowded streets and straight to a booth with beautiful dried flowers. She was shyly peeping at them when she was suddenly startled by a voice from behind.  
  
"Kuri-chan?"  
  
She turned, placing the voice instantly, but still disbelieving. It wasn't possible . . .  
  
"Oi! It is you!" Kuri suddenly felt herself tackled from behind in a way that she couldn't help but recognize. She squealed and wriggled and made a number of happy astonished sounds. Even as she flailed forward, she saw Soujiro thumb the blade of his katana from the corner of her eye. Distressed and disturbed, she cried out,  
  
"Iie iie, Soujiro-kun, it's all right!"  
  
He raised an eyebrow as she disentangled herself from the other person and after getting a great deal of squealing and hugging out of her system, she managed to regained her balance. Kuri couldn't help but smile in a cracked, lopsided, but altogether proud way as she waved her hand grandly at her assailant.  
  
"Seta Soujiro, I'd like you to meet my sister, Hina."  
  
--  
  
Author's Note:  
If you're interested in joining the mailing list, please send an email to subscribe-soujiro-fiction@topica.com or just drop me a line at Gabi@pinkfluffy.net. The Rainy Day Trilogy Website, with art and lots of other stuff is now up at a temporary location until pinkfluffy.net is restored. Come see us at http://www.geocities.com/pinkfluffynet/fanfiction/  
  



	4. Tears Know: Can't Even Protect Her From ...

I'll do my crying in the rain I'll Do My Crying in the Rain 

Chapter 4 -- Tears Know: Can't even protect her from the rain 

By Gabi 

The girl who had tackled Kuri was tall, taller than Soujiro by almost half a head. She was trim and fit, and he could see from the muscles in her exposed arms that she was in very good physical condition. There seemed to be a tense and wiry strength to her, and something about her crooked smile told him that she was not a woman to be messed with. She stood casually, one hand on her hip as she gesticulated with the other, but Soujiro could tell, even from the sinuous moves of her hand that she had been trained in some discipline. She moved too smoothly for there to be any other explanation, although he wondered at who in their right mind had trained a member of Kuri's family in a martial art. 

As if to back up his assumption that she had been trained in some form of physical combat, he noticed that her hands and wrists had been wrapped in tape, a common practice of street fighters. The rest of her clothing did little to contradict his placement of her. She wore a navy blue cotton haori tied at the waist over a cream colored yukata. The haori even sported tied back sleeves, so her arms were bare and totally free for movement until well above her elbows. Her ankles, much like her hands, had also been taped, and she wore simple black Chinese shoes. 

Still, despite their obvious differences in body type, Soujiro had no trouble identifying the assailant as a member of Kuri's family. Her eyes were the same clear and unmistakable green and her hair was the same deep and lacquered shade of brown, although the tall girl wore it in a high ponytail, tied with a very simple blue ribbon, one of her only nods to a gentler style. There was even something similar in the poses they struck, although Soujiro could still very easily differentiate their stances. The taller girl, Hina, was more experienced, more used to looking after herself. She was confident, and friendly, but still always broadcasting a warning of her strength. She reminded him very much of a loyal temple dog, for reasons he couldn't entirely place. This classification struck him immediately as one not to inform others about. He had the distinct feeling that for some reason she would not take it as a compliment, as he had intended. Unlike certain wolves, he reflected, he had the presence of mind to keep his mouth shut about certain things. 

Briefly, his eyes shifted back to Kuri and he felt gratified to see her so ecstatic, gesturing wildly in happiness. She had certainly overcome her former sluggishness and testiness, although he found himself feeling rather queer about it. He was still somewhat distressed that he personally had not been the one to bring her out of her funk, but he knew, of course, that this was an extremely silly way to feel. He felt it anyway. 

Kuri, on the other hand, felt like dancing. Here was her older sister, 'neechan, someone she loved, but hadn't seen in years met through a totally random chance occurrence. She couldn't help but squeal. 

Almost in unison, both girls spoke: 

"What are you doing here?" asked Kuri, clasping her hands in front of her and fidgeting with ill-suppressed glee. 

"How did you get here?" echoed Hina at almost the same moment, an obvious grin plastered on her face. 

Kuri hopped slightly at this, unsure of whether to demand her sister answer first or attempt to explain her own situation. Her sister's reaction was one she had expected, a friendly unrestrained laugh. Hina had never been one to bottle her emotions. After she recovered and before Kuri could volunteer her lopsided story, she offered her own explanation. 

"Well, you may remember, when you were about ten, I ran away from home." 

Kuri nodded, "Yeah, they kept threatening to send you to the Three Snakes Inn because they said you cost too much to feed." 

Hina nodded and rolled her eyes at the same time, "Boy, what great times those were. Anyway, I wasn't about to let myself get sold to that nasty inn, so I ran away from home. I've been watching my own back ever since, although I did have some help along the way," her crooked grin intensified, even as she spoke, "Now what about you? I haven't heard anything about any of our family since I left home. What happened after I left?" 

Kuri felt somewhat disgruntled for a moment, and it showed. Those were distasteful things that she would have rather not remembered. Still, she owed Hina an explanation. 

"Well, things got a lot worse after you left. For a while they were better because otou-san and okaa-san were happy that you had disposed of yourself, and they didn't have to worry about feeding you any more. Then it occurred to them just how much work you had done on the farm, and they got really cranky. Otou-san even went so far as to calculate exactly how much money he'd have gotten if you'd stuck around long enough for him to sell you to the inn." 

Hina grimaced sympathetically and after a moment, Kuri continued. 

"Well, after a little while, otou-san and okaa-san got their wish. They had a boy. They had a whining, sniveling, bratty little boy named Roku. For me, it was the beginning of the end. You see, otou-san and okaa-san had been angry at me ever since you'd left. I tried to fill up your place and do your chores, but no one ever really showed me how. They said I was lazy and stupid," at this point, Kuri's voice developed a peculiar edge that Soujiro would later wonder about. 

"Anyway, after a few months, they started again with the 'you cost too much to feed' line and before I knew it, they sold me to the Three Snakes." 

Hina's eyes had widened considerably and she seemed spellbound, "What happened next?" 

"Well," Kuri scratched the back of her head, "I stayed there for a long time, scrubbing floors, cleaning muck, anything and everything that that old bastard innkeeper could think for me to do. It was worse than at home because he hit me a lot." 

Behind her, unnoticed to her, or even to himself, Soujiro's hand played idly over the hilt of his katana. 

"But then one day," Kuri brightened, "When I thought it couldn't get any worse, Soujiro-kun came and saved me," she lowered her voice and whispered conspiratorily to the elder girl even as she giggled quietly, "I think he stole me." 

Hina laughed at this herself and Kuri waited for her to finish before she continued. 

"And I've been with him ever since. We're traveling around, looking for something or other. I think it's important. A lot of other stuff happened to us too, but that's basically it," Kuri nodded, as if affirming it to herself. She was pleased with her story and she was fairly certain that she had finally told in such a way that someone other than herself could follow it. 

Hina reached out and ruffled her hair before enfolding her into a tight, brief hug, "Listen, Kuri-chan, I'm really sorry that all that awful stuff happened to you because of me. I never meant it to, I just had to get out. I would have taken you, if I could." 

Kuri shook her head, "I know. It's not your fault, it's just the way things happened. Besides," Kuri felt her eyes widen inadvertently as she made a connection, "If anything else had happened, then I would have never met Soujiro-kun." 

Hina laughed again and Kuri realized it was because of her expression and then blushed. She hadn't meant it like that. Well, yes she had, but she hadn't meant to state it aloud and then gape like a fish over it. Kuri mentally bonked herself in the forehead. She was going to have to learn to control her astonished revelations. 

"Ah," Hina folded her arms behind her and looked smug, "So that's why you're at Tanabata." 

Behind her, Kuri heard Soujiro cough as if he had something in his throat. 

"What are you talking about?" Kuri demanded. Everyone was acting so weird, like they knew a bunch of stuff that she didn't. 

Hina opened her mouth to answer when suddenly, a yell made itself heard over the bustle around them. 

"Oi! Hina, where are you?" 

Hina turned her back on them for a moment and then bellowed in a way that Soujiro was sure that only members of Kuri's family could accurately mimic, "I'm down the street! I'll be right there." 

"Well hurry up, there's some people you need to clean up back here!" 

"Yeah, I hear you!" 

Hina turned back to the two of them and then shrugged, "Duty calls." 

"Duty?" asked Kuri curiously. 

"Yeah, that's why I'm in Sendai Town. I live here. I'm a bouncer at a sake house back there, and we're having a boom today because of the festival," Hina explained, and Soujiro wondered. He'd never heard of a female bouncer at a sake house, although he had met a girl ninja briefly, he reflected, so it was all basically the same thing. 

"Hey!" the taller girl cried, punctuating her burst by punching her fist into her palm, "I have a great idea. You guys go off and enjoy the festival." 

Kuri got the distinct feeling that Hina was looking over her head and behind her. Soujiro coughed again and Kuri wondered if he needed a drink of water or something. 

"And then later tonight, after we're closed, you come back by here and we can go and talk some more. I can even put you up at my house for a night, if you don't mind it being really cramped," Hina finished, looking quite pleased with herself. 

Kuri nodded, "That sounds like a great idea!" She turned back to gauge Soujiro's reaction to the plan and found that he looked somewhat ruffled, although he nodded as well. 

"We'll do just that, Hina-san." 

Hina opened her mouth to make another comment, but just then the voice from down the crowded street bellowed again. 

"Hina! We could use some help! Get your ass down here!" 

Instead of speaking, Hina simply grinned, shrugged and wrinkled her nose before turning on heel and dashing off down the street in the direction of the voice. She looked over her shoulder even as she did and yelled back, "I'll see you then!" When she turned back around, she had to dodge around to one side to nearly miss a man with his arms full of baskets of apples. 

Kuri giggled even as Hina disappeared from view. Her sister certainly hadn't changed much. 

"Well," remarked Soujiro after a moment, "She's . . . unique." 

"Isn't she just?" she nodded enthusiastically. She was about to make further comment when all the sudden Soujiro's gaze jerked sharply to the left and something about his expression became very distant. 

Before she could ask what was going on he gripped her arm tightly for an instant and murmured, "Walk back along the street the way your sister went. I'll be right there." 

Kuri turned as he brushed past her, but he was gone down the street before she could do or say anything. There it was. He had done it again. She balled her hands into fists and stalked down the street the way her sister had gone. Was it ever going to get any better? 

* 

Soujiro scanned the crowd even as swept along with it, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible. One second he had been pondering the knowing looks from Kuri's elder sister, and the next his mind had been jerked so efficiently back to Kyoto that it frightened some part of him, and it was all because out of the corner of his eye, he'd seen someone brush by in the crowd and duck into the shadows of an alley. 

It had to be him. There was no mistaking the shock of blonde hair that stood straight on end and defied gravity, or the crisscrossed katana strapped across his back. Soujiro was absolutely sure it was him. But why was he here? It could not be a coincidence. Things like that simply didn't happen. What did he want? 

Katanagari no Chou. 

* 

Kuri's anger had receded and she was no longer feeling so cross. In fact, she was beginning to wish fervently that Soujiro were back with her. She decided that she must have gone too far down the road because there were far fewer people about, and the ones who were about looked seedy. Several men had followed her with their eyes, making her feel unclean in some way. One even went so far as to make a lewd comment, but she ignored them the best she could and tried to continue walking. She wanted to turn around and walk straight back the way that she had come, but maybe Soujiro wouldn't be able to find her then, and she didn't want to turn her back on the men in front of her, even for a moment. 

As she walked steadily forward, she gripped the sleeves of her yukata to keep herself calmly composed so she wouldn't turn and run like a rabbit. Soujiro would be there soon. He would be there soon. There was nothing to worry about. He would be there soon. 

Kuri was so caught up in establishing this as a fact that she didn't react fast enough and stumbled into a man that stepped right in front of her. 

She bowed quickly and apologized, hoping to be away from the large man as soon as possible, "Sumimasen." 

She tried to side step around him, but found herself jerked backward by her hair when she tried to move. She cried out in surprise and hurt and tried to turn around to see who was behind her when a large hand clamped over her mouth. Her eyes went wide and she tried to scream but it only came out as a muffled crying sound. This couldn't be happening. It couldn't be happening. He was coming. He'd protect her. Still, it was good to be on the safe side, so she squirmed and wiggled and tried to flail her way out of the situation, only to have her arms pinned behind her by someone she couldn't see. The man in front of her, that held his hand tight over her mouth began to laugh and he was joined in by four other separate laughs, that she could count, all clustered behind her. Desperate, terrified, she bit at the hand clamped across her face, but the dirty pockmarked man was too fast for her. He jerked his hand from her mouth and backhanded her hard across the face, so that her teeth cut into her lip and it began to bleed. She reeled back, as far as she could go, and her eyes teared up of their own accord even as she let out an earsplitting wail that terminated in a fearful whimper as the man in front of her backhanded her again. 

"You do that again," he said, bringing his face very close to hers, "And I'll break your neck, do you hear me? No sound, or we kill you now." 

Kuri nodded, blinking back tears. No sound. He was going to come. He'd be there soon. The man in front of her reached for the sash of the yukata and Kuri prepared to thrash again, but a new voice stopped them cold. 

"Put her down now. If you touch her again, I swear you'll regret it." 

The voice was icy and controlled and sounded very menacing, although there was a deadly softness underneath. Kuri could only piece together one thing before she blacked out from another blow to the head. 

The voice was almost nothing like Soujiro's. 

-- 

Author's Note:   
I deserve a present for getting this one out so soon after the last chapter. 

If you're interested in joining the mailing list, please send an email to subscribe-soujiro-fiction@topica.com or just drop me a line at Gabi@pinkfluffy.net. The Rainy Day Trilogy Website, with art and lots of other stuff is now up at a temporary location until pinkfluffy.net is restored. Come see us at http://www.geocities.com/pinkfluffynet/fanfiction/   
  
  



	5. Veil of Frost: The Crane's Hospitality

I'll do my crying I'll Do My Crying in the Rain

Chapter 5 --Veil of Frost: The Crane's Hospitality

By Gabi

The wind sang by, ruffling the wish cards that hung from the eaves of the buildings on the narrow street until they whistled and shook. A few early autumn leaves, shaken from their branches, rustled past, swept by the unrelenting onslaught of the wind.

He stood still, like a solid rock of muscle, more tensed than he had ever been in his life. The wind whipped his hair about his face and by some strange trick of the light, his eyes seemed to glow. They were beautiful, indigo fire, then they were slitted, black marks on his face, taking in fully the scene before him.

One by one, the men turned, their attention finally drawn away from the disheveled young man they'd been beating for sport. The young man stood, bruised and blackened from their attention, in front of a slight figure, slumped and unmoving on the dirty wooden sidewalk.

The wind was singing in his ears, and suddenly, his eyes flashed open wide, and caught by the enormous force of newly wakened ken-ki, the men in front of him all seemed to stumble backwards a pace. Two of them lost their footing entirely and he scented a puddle of urine forming underneath another. The young man, who had stood through all of the pummeling in defense of the girl, fell forward onto his knees and stayed there, trembling, eyes wide and sightless from the experience.

It was singing. The wind was singing in his ears and he was smiling. Beautiful, beautiful. He moved elegantly, a simultaneous draw as he swept across the distance between them like the wind. The heavenly wind. Kamikaze. The heaven's sword. Tenken. His hand didn't stay for a moment over the hilt of the iatou. His katana drawn whisper soft even as he rode the wind forward. Only one of them actually had time to react, his hand coming up to ward off an expected blow. The katana sang just like the wind, and when he was done, he was still smiling, and there were five dead men at his feet.

Silently, efficiently, he flicked the blood from his katana and resheathed it. He stood still for a moment, chin slightly inclined to the sun, and closed his eyes. His face lost all expression and the wind died suddenly. When he opened his eyes again, they were soft and reflective. He turned his head without moving from his position and looked at her. She was hurt, broken like a flower. His left hand, hidden in the sleeve of his gi, tightened until his nails bit into the flesh of his palm and he bled. He made no sign of this, but simply turned and knelt, gathering her fragile bird body into his arms. She was still warm, still breathing, although her breath seemed to come in little sobs. Carefully cradling her, as if she were some crystalline fragment of dew covered cobweb that might dissolve in the air, he stood and then turned to the young man, who was still trembling, on his knees.

"What happened?" Soujiro spoke and knew his voice as his own, it just sounded so curiously distant.

The man took a few more minutes to recover himself before speaking, "I'm not exactly sure. I think they just grabbed her off the street because she was alone. I tried to stop them, and I did get them to stop paying attention to her, but only after they'd hurt her pretty bad," he struggled to his feet and then turned to look at Soujiro, "I wondered why she was alone, on this side of town. She must not be from around here. I know I've never seen her. She's so beautiful, she shouldn't be . . . " he cut himself off, suddenly aware that he had been wandering into dangerous territory, "Does she belong to you?" his voice was soft.

"Aa," Soujiro found that his voice was strangely strong, steady, yet still unfamiliar. Yes, she was his. He was not afraid to say it when her ears were deaf to hear. It was as natural as his claim on the recently blooded katana. It was his as much as his right arm was his. And she was his.

The lot of good it had done her. She was still hurt, blooded in a different way from the katana. His nails bit into his flesh again, this time in the palm of the hand that rested in the crook of her knees. His smile was so bright and fresh that he might have been at a summer picnic, but he had an unbridled desire to kill something or someone else, something that was altogether new for him. He had never desired to kill simply to kill. That was Chou. That was Usui. Soujiro had simply killed when it was convenient. If someone posed a problem, he killed them and then there was no more problem. It wasn't the most advanced or forgiving method of problem solving, but it was extremely effective and as Shishio's most trusted underling, he had faced no ramifications or consequences.

Now he wanted to kill to satisfy an anger, a hunting hatred. The men who were responsible were already dead. He had killed them himself, but it had been somehow terribly unsatisfying. The men he'd killed had been dirty vermin, things you crushed under your heel, not things you killed. They weren't even meat for the strong, just tripe, refuse. That these pieces of filth had come so close to . . . he wanted to kill something very badly.

"Are you traveling?" the boy interrupted his thoughts and Soujiro turned to him with a bland smile, then looked down. The young man's voice was soft and gentle, but Soujiro could tell there was some discipline to it.

"We are," Soujiro answered. He was looking at her, taking stock of her injuries, hoping none were internal, hoping she wasn't bleeding.

"She's hurt. She needs to rest. We have a farm just outside of town. It's not that far away. You're welcome to stay. We'll call a doctor."

Soujiro's eyes softened and his hands trembled as he watched the darkened skin where bruises would develop soon. She needed rest and care and attention. There was only one choice he could make.

"Thank you," he spoke and there was a fullness behind it, an ill-repressed need, "I know that you tried to protect her."

The young man shook his head, "No, it's what anyone would have done."

"No," Soujiro spoke sharply and the boy flinched, "Sumimasen. I didn't mean to startle you. I owe you a debt and I will pay it in time."

The adolescent swallowed and then nodded slowly as if he were afraid of angering someone.

"Thank you again," spoke Soujiro softly, bringing her close to his chest, as if to share his warmth, "For offering your hospitality. Please, take me to your home."

Carrying his precious bundle, Soujiro left the town without another whisper, hard to the heels of the young man who had offered sanctuary, even as the wishing stars of Tanabata rose over the festival town of Sendai.

*

The young man, Yokano Toshio, Soujiro learned through an hurried introduction, had dashed off almost as soon as they had arrived at the farm house. The boy did stay long enough to give a hasty explanation to a willowy, elegant young woman who appeared on the porch at his call, but then he was off down the road to fetch a doctor, as if his very life depended on it.

The woman, arms folded into the sleeves of a silk summer kimono, bowed deeply and then spoke in a voice that was medium contralto, soft and pleasing, measured, "I am Yokano Kimiko and you do me honor by becoming my guest. Please, come inside. I can prepare a place for her. She must have had a terrible ordeal."

She turned and seemed to float through the sliding wooden door and into the large common room that made the first floor of the farm house. In one corner of the room there were stuffed straw mattresses. From another corner of the room, Kimiko produced a heavy fleece, which she laid over the straw mattress and then beckoned Soujiro to lay down his delicate bundle.

"I am sorry," she spoke softly, even as she knelt to light a lamp near the bed, "That our hospitality is lacking. Our family has fallen on hard times. You are our welcome guests as long as you might choose to stay, but I am sorry to say that we have little to share other than bean curds and rice and straw to sleep on."

"You have done too much already," Soujiro murmured the response he assumed was expected in the situation. He really was beyond feeling anything other than a peaceful and steady warmth. It was a dull, throbbing happiness.

He laid her on the mattress carefully, arranging her into as comfortable a position as possible while attempting not to move her too much as jostling might agitate any internal injury.

"You are too gracious," he spoke again, "And we have lived on far less. Tell me, though, why has your family fallen upon hard times?"

He glanced up from the girl and Kimiko found his gaze piercing, and so, averted her eyes.

"Our father was a samurai for the shogun, but since our mother was long dead, my brother and I lived with our mother's brother who was a lesser lord under the shogun. We lived at his estate and were trained and taught there. When the shogun fell," her voice was soft and wandering, and Soujiro felt as if he were receiving much more than he had bargained for by asking a simple question, "My uncle took his life. Shortly after that, all his land was seized by the new government and Toshio and I found ourselves homeless. We lived with a distant relative after that, waiting for our father to come and claim us, then two years ago we got news that he had been killed in a duel. My brother, who was then sixteen, received word from a government official that he was now the owner of this farm, my father's sole remaining possession, other than his sword," here she nodded toward the far corner of the room where the ground was raised, as if it were a dias, "Toshio and I had no intention of putting our relative to further trouble, and so we moved here a few months after that."

Soujiro was absolutely silent as he studied the lines on Kuri's face. Somewhere outside a light breeze played with a china and paper chime.

"I'm sorry," Kimiko blushed faintly in shame, "I didn't mean to burden you with the misfortune of our family, I simply felt the need to talk about it. I haven't had anyone to talk with since we came here," she flushed again and looked down, "Beg pardon."

"It's no trouble," he didn't look at her, but the candlelight played games with the shadows on the panes of his face. He almost looked as if he was smiling blissfully, turned in profile as he was to her, "Although I must ask why you think you are in bad way. You have a home and fields to work. There are many who would like to lead this simple life and lack the means. You have the means, you just seemed to lack the will."

His voice seemed somehow mocking, and she was resentful, but she kept her voice well controlled as she spoke, "Our harvests have been very poor. We're running out of food. Neither of us knows how to farm, or harvest. The nearby farmers helped us in the spring season, but they are all busy with their own harvests now, and we have no money to hire threshers. The grain will rot on the stalk soon, and we can do nothing about it. I suppose you could say that we lack the will."

There were several moments of strained silence as Soujiro quietly and delicately stroked Kuri's hair as it lay spread on the blanket. After a while, he spoke.

"Sumimasen, Kimiko-san. I was not aware of the situation. I did not mean to criticize. I am only a threadbare ronin and it is not my place to judge you," there was a twist to that smile of his, or perhaps just another flicker of the candlelight?

"However," he continued, folding his arms into his gi, "I have some experience in harvesting rice and I would be happy to volunteer my services for as long as we remain as your guests."

She started and turned to look at him sharply, "You offer is most kind, but . . ."

He cut her off, absently studying her face and the shadows playing on it, "My offer is the only one you are likely to get. Please do not let pride keep you from accepting it. If you refuse, I will simply put it to your brother. I am sure he will be receptive," he glanced at the frail girl, wrapped in a muddied festival robe, "Even if he has other interests."

He stared at him and felt a cold fury building in her, but suddenly it ebbed and she felt very weak. He was right, this was their only choice. Here at least lay a path that led to another season.

"I accept," she murmured softly, eyes still fastened tight to the hem of her sleeve, "I am sure Toshio will be pleased to hear that you are staying."

Soujiro nodded once, decisively, as if sealing a contract. He relaxed, although it wasn't visible to the casual observer until he shifted to a more comfortable position. He felt at least a little better, and no longer had the desire to kill something at random.

Here was at least one debt paid.   
  



	6. An Unexpected Savior: How fragile we are

I'll Do My Crying in the Rain   
  
Chapter 6 -- An Unexpected Savior: How fragile we are   
  
By Gabi   
  
She stirred fitfully under the thick blanket that had been laid over her and he took it to be a good sign. At least she was moving. Where was that doctor? It felt like ages since the young man had dashed off in search of him but Soujiro knew it couldn't have been more than twenty minutes. Time inched by due in part, he was sure, to both the weight on his lap and on his mind.   
  
He knelt, silent, studying the injured girl and paying little attention to the elegant young woman who sat across from him. Their conversation had died like a gutted candle and he had not said another word to her since she had accepted his offer. She seemed used to long stretches of heavy silence because she sat unmoving, head bowed slightly so she would not be staring at him openly, and tracked him from under her lashes. He was aware she was studying him but he cared not for her attention. He had issues of his own to busy him.   
  
Kuri stirred again and murmured something, another good sign, he hoped. He leaned down to hear her breathy whispers and her eyes opened a fraction, their deep green watery and weak, although not in intensity and not in the effect they had on him. He was so close to her, their noses almost touching from his attempt to hear her soft mumblings, and his own breath caught as she slowly, laboriously, formed the syllables again.   
  
"Soujiro-kun? Soujiro-kun?" she asked tremulously her eyes, though open, seemed sightless and wandering.   
  
"I'm here, Kuri," he spoke softly, as if the barest breath of sound might damage her further. He brought up his hand and delicately stroked her cheek with his index finger.   
  
Her eyes seemed to lose their glaze and slowly come into focus on his finger, then they inched over his hand and finally found his face.   
  
She swallowed and then closed her eyes for a moment before grimacing. When she opened her eyes again, they were brighter, more natural.   
  
"I hurt a lot," she said earnestly.   
  
"I'm sorry," he said, equally as earnestly, never letting his hand trail from her cheek.   
  
She began to shake her head but stopped, as it made her dizzy, "No. Not your fault."   
  
He was silent and she grew quickly concerned, "Soujiro-kun?"   
  
"Mmm?" his grunt was noncommittal, but she knew she had his entire attention.   
  
"Promise me that you won't go back and hurt those men? Promise? I don't want," she had to catch her breath and paused for a moment before continuing, "I don't want you to get in trouble. I know that they hurt me, but you can't go kill them. Promise me."   
  
Her breathing quickened and his eyes lost focus even as his thought patterns tightened and centered.   
  
His smile was gentle, soft, private, "I promise, Kuri. Don't worry, just rest. The doctor is on his way."   
  
She nodded her head slightly, the wrinkles on her forehead going slack as her look of worry ebbed. She blinked slowly before speaking again, "I'm very tired. Is it all right if I sleep until he gets here?"   
  
The barest flicker of worry crossed Soujiro's face, but bathed as he was in candlelight, it was easy to disregard, "Does your head hurt?"   
  
Before she could answer he fingered the strand of blood that traced its way from her nose to her upper lip. It, coupled with the circles currently darkening around her eyes, was a sure sign that her nose had been broken.   
  
She shook her head and was sorry for it again, "No, I'm just dizzy," she amended, "And I hurt all over. But my head doesn't hurt, not very much, any way.   
  
He moved smoothly, before she had time to protest, and slipped a hand underneath her head for support as he probed for irregular bumps. He knew that if she had a head wound and went to sleep then she might never wake up. His hand trembled, but he steadied it so not to alarm her and then finished poking her scalp while watching her intently for any reaction.   
  
"It didn't hurt anywhere I touched?" he asked, gently nestling her head back against the folded cloth on which it had previously rested.   
  
"No," she replied, this time remembering to keep her head still, "But my chest hurts. Can I rest now?"   
  
He cast a long, heavy, almost tactile look over her and then he smiled, and it seemed that to her that he alone was the world, "Yes, you can sleep now. It would probably be for the best if you did."   
  
She managed her own smile as she closed her eyes. Like her gaze, it was watery and unfocused but he understood the meaning and moved his hand to cover the one she rested on the top of the heavy wool blanket. He remained still until her breathing evened and slowed to the steady measured beat of sleep. Even as he waited for her to sleep and slowed and matched his breathing to hers to calm himself he could not help but let his thoughts play upon the boon she had begged of him.   
  
Don't kill the men. I don't want you to get in trouble.   
  
He had rarely faced consequences for his kills previously, except in certain situations, and he sincerely doubted that the recently dispatched street filth were closely connected to a certain red haired rurouni with justice on his mind. There were scant few on the planet who could actually threaten Seta Soujiro and receive more than a cursory smile and polite giggle for their trouble and he had difficulty connecting any of them to the street gang.   
  
Still, there were other matters to consider. It was easy to forget that not only did he no longer take orders from Shishio but that he was no longer privy to the protection it afforded as well. The police were actually a threat. Not the men themselves, to be sure. They were no more danger to him that the street thugs had been. And therein lay the problem. They were exactly the same danger to him as the street thugs. Both were a threat to Kuri.   
  
Before when he had been forced to make kills or be killed himself, he had simply packed up Kuri and wandered off before anyone thought to ask questions. The police were not organized enough to connect up isolated events, nor, according to Saitou, were they interested in tracking him simply by virtue of his name and past associations. Relocation had always been an adequate solution to his problems with the police in the past.   
  
Now he did not have the luxury of relocation. Kuri was injured badly. He could not risk moving her farther than he already had. She needed peace, and if he was any judge, several weeks of rest and recuperation. He could not simply pack her on his back and carry her off, trusting that she'd heal well enough as they traveled. It was far too serious for that.   
  
Nor was hiding out an acceptable alternative. He was sure that someone must have witnessed his quick disposal of the gang because the city had been crowded with festival goers. Someone had seen and they would be able to tell the police and eventually the police would be able to trace him to the outskirts of the town and to the fragile, injured girl that he protected.   
  
And then there would be questions. After the questions he would likely be dragged off to a badly maintained city jail to await trial. He knew that Kuri would not stand to see him imprisoned, and as soon as she recovered enough he imagined she'd be beating down the prison's door. Bringing attention to herself. Bringing a lot of unwanted attention to herself. She was an escaped indentured servant after all. Someone had to be looking for her, and if they found her, there would be no one to protect her. They'd just take her away again.   
  
Well, hiding and running away were not options. This left him with one surefire alternative, although he was unsure of the final outcome at least it was an option. To get himself out of trouble he would get himself into trouble. If he went and politely explained to the police officers then perhaps they'd see it his way. It was self-defense. Sort of. Well, not really. The men hadn't been any sort of threat to him, or to Kuri after he'd arrived on the scene. He'd doled out swift retribution because it'd suited his foul temper at the time, not that he particularly regretted his actions at this point, except for the unfriendly looking consequences. The policemen really didn't have to know that it wasn't self-defense. He was just protecting an innocent teenage girl, after all. Maybe they'd buy that. It wasn't far from the truth.   
  
They probably wouldn't buy it, or care that he had an excuse, not really, but it was the only option he had at this point.   
  
He turned his head slightly as he heard the approaching bustle of sandal shod feet on the soft earth outside the house. Toshio was finally back with the doctor. He touched his fingertips to Kuri's face one last time and then stood carefully, so as not to disturb her. The sooner he acted, the better his odds were. If he caught a policeman tonight, there would likely be less hell to pay. He passed the young man and the stooped older doctor in the doorway and leaned over to offer the softest whisper to the lad.   
  
"Take care of her. I'll be back later."   
  
He didn't wait to see the boy's astonished response, nor did he throw a backward glance at the quiet woman who sat with her head bowed, studying the woven rush mat in front of her, he just rustled out like the breeze that had had the scent of death on it such a short time ago.   
  
Soujiro was not one to procrastinate.   
  
***   
  
The street was almost eerily deserted, strange considering the early hour and the festival that was still going full swing on the other side of town. There were no lanterns hung on this street, no wish cards fluttered in the chill night breeze although he was keenly aware that there were likely many unanswered wishes here.   
  
He advanced down the street, absently noting that the bodies and blood had already been cleaned up. Apparently the local police were more efficient that he'd imagined. He noted the figure lounged in the shadows of a near doorway and turned to face it, expecting a member of the local police agency. He was surprised by the figure that did step out.   
"They already cleaned it all up, don't worry."   
  
It was Hina, still very much clothed like a sake house bouncer although he suspected that she was now off duty, as the doorway she stood in did not look like it was the entrance to any sort of drinking establishment, no matter how seedy.   
  
He was already wearing his most complacent little boy smile, so he had merely to fold his arms inside his sleeves and tilt his head slightly to the side to complete his air of innocence.   
  
"Really?"   
  
She nodded, grimly toeing the dirt where the drag marks from one of the bodies could still be seen clearly.   
  
"Word of what happened spread fast. I got here as fast as I could, but he was already here overseeing everything. You had already split. I figured from the description that it had to be you guys. How's Kuri?"   
  
"She'll be fine," he didn't miss a beat although he silently prayed that he was right, "She's with the doctor now. I would've liked to have stayed with her, Hina-san, but I thought there might be complications with the local police. I didn't want for her to be involved."   
  
"Call me Hina. No -san or I'll punch you, got it?"   
  
He sweatdropped. She wasn't exactly a threat, but he might as well humor her, "Hai, Hina."   
  
"After all, we're basically family."   
  
Soujiro continued to sweatdrop and made no attempt at replying. Hina didn't seem to expect one, as she continued on without waiting for a response.   
  
"I really wish I could've been there to help you waste those thugs. They've been harassing girls in the street for weeks but the police haven't bothered to do anything about it. Most girls don't go down here anymore, not like many did in the first place. If I'd been here I'da let them live, but I'da made sure they wouldn't be pestering any girls any more."   
  
At this point Hina made a gesture that made it very clear what she would have done to the offenders and the movement made Soujiro entirely too uncomfortable for reasons he couldn't quite place.   
  
He coughed and then attempted to steer Hina back on track. He was certainly talking to Kuri's sister, "So the police already came and took care of the bodies?"   
  
She shook her head, "No, it wasn't the local police for sure. It was this one weird guy with an outlandish haircut and some government men. They cleared the area, and of course, I didn't want to leave and I explained who I was and why I had a personal interest and he let me stay. He said a lot of things that I just don't understand at all. It didn't help that he cursed every other word either. I mean, its not like I have virgin ears, but I had a hard time figuring out what he was trying to say in between curses. He gave me a message for you, at least I figure it had to be for you, since I don't know anyone else who might be 'that smiling little prick.'"   
  
Soujiro felt a muscle in the back of his neck twitch involuntarily, but he didn't let it show, "And what did he have to say?"   
  
Hina paused as if trying to remember the exchange word for word before speaking, "Tell that little fucker that I took care of his goddamned mess this time so he owes me and tell him not to worry about coming to fucking see me right now. I'll be in touch."   
  
Yes. That was most certainly Chou.   
  
Hina looked embarrassed and seemed to be remembering something she would rather forget, "He said some other stuff, but I really don't think you want to know. Those were the important bits," she hurried along forward, "And then they cleaned up the bodies and dragged them off somewhere. The local police came by for a few minutes, but the guy with the weird hair and the bad mouth 'convinced' him that he really didn't care about looking for whoever got rid of the thugs."   
  
This was a convenient yet not altogether satisfying development. Chou was interested in keeping him out of trouble. He doubted that the crazed assassin turned government agent had helped him out of the goodness of his heart. He wanted something, and it was something that would only be revealed in time, as he was certain that Chou and his contingent of secret policemen had probably left the town by now. Chou was not stupid enough to bait Soujiro and then hang around to receive him.   
  
He didn't have time to go hunting for Chou anyway. He needed to get back to Kuri, lest she wake up surrounded by strangers. Well, for the time being Chou had done him a favor, and he was grateful. Whatever hell to pay would be paid at some later date. His immediate problems were at least solved.   
  
"Arigatou, Hina," he bowed genially, blankly pleasant smile still in place, "I'm sorry you had to run my errands, so to speak."   
  
She shook her head, "No, thank you, Seta Soujiro, for looking after my sister. I don't think she could ever find someone more suited to the job. Don't blame yourself for what happened today, but do try to keep a closer eye on her. Kuri has always been really good at getting herself into trouble."   
  
Soujiro giggled, his soft voice sounding quite feminine, "I am quite aware of that."   
  
Hina rolled her eyes skyward for a moment, "You know, you don't have to always act like a brain-addled six year old. I know there's more to you than that. I don't care if you keep up the act for the whole rest of the time I know you, but for five seconds, right now, I want you to very honestly tell me what you intend to do with my sister."   
  
Soujiro coughed several times and put on a good show of having something caught in his throat. Hina did not seem impressed or fooled so he composed himself and then searched for the proper words.   
  
"Kuri is . . ." he stopped. He might as well be as honest as possible. This was, after all, going to be the closest thing to he was ever going to have to familial permission, "I would kill a thousand men if I thought it might keep her out of harm, but if she asked me not to kill them, I don't think I could. I was an assassin. I am still a killer. I am a ronin. I can't offer her much of a life, but I am happy to share with her what I have. She makes finding the path so much simpler . . ."   
  
He seemed to be lost in his own thoughts, his eyes hidden by his hair. Hina smiled at him fondly,   
"That's what I thought. Get along, Soujiro. Go on back to Kuri. I'll handle things here if anything comes up. I'll try and come by to see her tomorrow. Tell her I'm thinking about her."   
  
He raised his head and fixed her with a clear and unsmiling gaze. His eyes were a beautiful indigo, clear and lucid in the moonlight, "I will Hina. Arigatou. Arigatou gozaimasu."   
  
And as the dog girl stood careful guard over scuffle marks and latent suspicions, the boy ronin traced his way back to the small farmhouse where his girl, his woman, the child, the thief, the beacon, had finally attained a measure of peaceful slumber.   
  
***


	7. An Untenable Fog: Everything Comes Undon...

I'll Do My Crying in the Rain

Chapter 7  -- An Untenable Fog: Everything Comes Undone

By Gabi (gabi@pinkfluffy.net)

As Soujiro had predicted, Kuri's recovery took several weeks.  Still, she proved hardier than he had guessed, and after the first week of staying carefully tended in bed by both Toshio and his sister, by turns, she refused to stay in bed any longer and began to putter around the house, looking for something to busy herself with.  She still felt rather weak, and strenuous activity tired her out quickly, so she was little use at anything that involved serious labor.  

Soujiro had forbidden her to stay outside for any extended period of time, and although this made her feel dependent, she was glad for it.  She didn't him want to see how much the incident had affected her.  She didn't want him to feel guilty about it, although she was sure he did in some sense.  After all, he was her protector and he'd allowed her to be hurt.  Even on the most shallow level that had to be bad for his ego.

She wasn't sure how he was taking it at all, really.  Since the night of the attack he'd been strangely distant.  She tried to convince herself that it was just the harvest that kept him away.  He did come back late every night, clad only in his hakama, that had been rolled to the knees to keep them from getting too dirty.  He and Toshio were well into the rice harvest now and there were few evenings that they didn't come back completely covered in mud, ready for their dinners before they bathed.

She liked to stand in the doorway of the house to welcome them back in.  She wasn't much help preparing dinner, since Kimiko seemed to have everything very efficiently under control.  She wanted to feel useful in some way, and they only way she knew how was to simply offer her smile and company after their tiring day in the fields.

Soujiro said little to her while she prattled, he seemed quiet and withdrawn, but Toshio was quite animated.  He seemed to be interested in everything she had to say and whenever she fell silent, waiting for Soujiro to join in their conversation, he would prompt her to continue.  He always had a kind word, or a gentle smile for her, although she noticed he blushed a lot.  He was just shy, she guessed.

Kimiko, while never openly hostile, was as chill as the night air had become.  She seemed reserved and docile, and Kuri felt that the elder woman disapproved of both the kind words that Toshio offered so glibly and the stoic stares that Kuri occasionally caught from Soujiro.  She seemed to think that Kuri was far too active for an invalid and far too talkative when she should be waiting to be spoken to.  Kuri was acutely aware of her own lack of social graces, or graces of any sort, really, whenever she took the time to examine Kimiko at all.

The elegant crane girl was reserved, quiet, and graceful.  She never moved unless it was deliberate and often sat still for hours, reading quietly, or arranging small bouquets of wild flowers that Toshio occasionally brought her.  She managed the house almost entirely herself, and made all the food without assistance.  When Kuri offered to help she declined, citing that Kuri was both a guest and an invalid.  Kuri was too intimidated by her icy exterior to protest much.  After all, she seemed to have everything under control without aid.

Kimiko rarely spoke to Kuri or Soujiro directly, but she often spoke to her quietly to her brother.   Strangely enough, Soujiro, who showed almost no interest in Kuri, still found time to speak with Kimiko, mostly about the family's history and their current finances.  To Kuri it seemed as if he were inventing reasons to speak with her.

Altogether, it was an uncomfortable atmosphere.  Soujiro was ignoring her and devoting his attentions entirely elsewhere.  The only comfort she had was Toshio.  Kuri was sure that he could sense her discomfort and was going out of his way to make her feel welcome and liked in a difficult situation.

And it was difficult.  Every evening Soujiro came in from the fields, caked in mud, half clothed, and aching from labor that his well toned muscles, trained for years for combat, were not used to or prepared for.  He was working himself to exhaustion, she could tell, and she longed to comfort him, but she had no idea how to approach him.  He rarely answered her questions in anything more than a few words, and he seemed terribly forbidding and distant, as if she were staring at him through thick plate glass.

Every night he went to sleep scant inches away from her, on his own worn sleeping mat, but they might as well have been sleeping in different cities, for the intimacy she felt with him.  It was as if he'd forgotten her, even forgotten that she was his child, his comfort.  She seemed to be nothing more than his charge, and she couldn't help but wondering if he'd purposefully distanced himself to keep her from getting the wrong idea again.

She wouldn't let herself cry at night, although sometimes she wanted to.  He slept too close and too lightly.  If she cried he would know, and then he would probably berate her for being childish.  She was being childish, after all.  Toshio and his sister had been nothing but kind to them, giving them shelter and paying the doctor's bills even when they themselves had very little money.  She had no right to dislike or resent Kimiko or Toshio, but she couldn't help wishing that she and Soujiro were free from the place.  She wanted to be alone with him again, wandering the roads and camping outside.  There at least the only competition she had for his attention was his own inner monologue.

Still, as the days passed, she got stronger and stronger, and she was able to do more around the house.  It made her feel considerably less useless, although it did little to improve the personal miasma that seemed to dominate them all.  She was desperately hoping that she'd be well enough to travel before heavy snows set in.  Then they might be able to leave and get out of the heavy air that seemed to hold them all in tactile stasis.  If she was not well by the time the heavy snows set in she was terribly afraid they they'd end up wintering in the hollow little house with its hospitable occupants.  She didn't think she could stand a whole winter of this.

The hesitant looks she caught Kimiko giving Soujiro when she thought no one was looking were enough to drive Kuri nearly up the wall with both anxiety and jealousy.  Somehow, in the scant hours she'd spent unconscious, this girl had managed to get herself into a position that it had taken Kuri months of constant companionship to get herself into.  Kimiko now seemed to be the confidant, and Kuri couldn't help but noticing that when he spoke to her, he spoke to her as an equal.  They always spoke of affairs of the government or finance, things that Kuri didn't know a thing about.  They spoke candidly, and Soujiro seemed to actually listen to the crane girl and think about what she said carefully.  Kuri found herself feeling terribly inadequate, and it probably showed, because whenever Kuri was left out of conversations, Toshio made a special effort to talk to her and make her feel as if she belonged.  When they spoke it almost always fell to Kuri and Toshio and Soujiro and Kimiko.  It did little to lighten her mood.

And yet, she tried to make herself useful and pleasant.  When she got strong enough she offered her services as an errand girl, as it got her out of the stifling house and out from under the disapproving eye of Kimiko.  It also meant that she got to go out to the fields occasionally and offer her sound advice on harvesting rice.  She had, after all, grown up on a farm.  This was at least one thing she was able to dispense advice on and know what she was talking about.  Soujiro even occasionally responded to her when she offered some gem of a tidbit.  Generally he just quietly reminded her to keep her owagi around her so she wouldn't catch cold and then proceeded to splash through the chill waters of the rice paddies in something little better than his skivvies.   She wasn't sure how many times he'd told her to keep her coat on, but she was sure it had to be up in the hundreds now.  It seemed to be his new catch phrase, as if "Of course, Kuri-san" hadn't been damnable enough.

But she wasn't really allowed out to the fields very much.  She spent a great deal of her time trotting to and fro between the farm and the town.  The farm was always running short of some bit of food or another, since they had to buy supplies in such small quantities, in an attempt to ration out the money they had left.  Since they always bought very little, Kuri was generally able to carry it herself.  When it was too much for her, Soujiro went alone to get it from the town.

But beans?  Beans she could carry.  Beans were what she was after on a crisp late November morning.  Beans to make bean curds to have with the rice that was all blessedly harvested now.  Toshio had offered to walk with her to the town, but she had politely declined.  His interest in her now made her feel a little uncomfortable. Soujiro had found some task for him at the last minute, so at least he was busy.  Soujiro had not offered to go with her.  She was not surprised.

The walk into town was a pleasant one.  The air was chill, but not uncomfortably cold and the dirt path was neither too muddy nor too dusty.  It was almost enough to make her forget her current situation.  Almost enough, but not quite, and Kuri found herself brooding moodily about it despite the pleasantness of the day.

The small back path into town also led her conveniently close to the small house where he sister rented a room.  Kuri often stopped by and laid Hina low with all her current worries and musings, and the older girl did her best to comfort her sister.  Kuri felt like talking that day, as it generally made her feel at least somewhat better, but the shades were drawn on the rental room and no one answered her repetitive knocking.  Hina was probably out working.  Kuri was just going to have to deal with her problems herself.

Well, at least she might as well be useful.  Activity often kept Kuri's mind from wandering too far, so her chance to chat with her sister gone, Kuri headed over to the store where she could fill Kimiko's request for more beans.  

Kuri was rounding the corner of the store when two familiar voices cause her to stop in her tracks.  She rolled her eyes.  The last thing she want to deal with now were the hens.  The hens, as Kuri had dubbed them, were a group of gossiping town women who seemed to spend most of their time sitting around in the town store and talking about everyone's business but their own.

They did not like Kuri, after she had responded rather rudely to their first passive-aggressive questions and comments, and Kuri did not like them, as they seemed to serve no other purpose than to make other people's lives miserable.

Thankfully the hens tended to be out of the store by about an hour after lunch time, so Kuri tried to time her visits so she missed them completely.  They were overdue to leave now, and Kuri fervently hoped that if she stayed back and waited for a few minutes they'd leave and she would be able to buy her beans in peace.  She didn't mind waiting half an hour if it meant she wouldn't have to deal with them.  She settled against the corner of the building and waited for them to leave.  

Kuri didn't really want to listen to them.  She knew that listening to gossip never helped any situation, and certainly, listening to these old biddies gossip could only make her situation worse.  However, situated as she was against the corner of the building, with them talking as loudly as they did, gossiping so everyone could hear, she wasn't able to sustain her attempted immunity.

She only caught fragments at first, but as soon as she realized what they were talking about she couldn't help but concentrate on their words in an attempt to piece together what they were talking about.  It chilled her heart.

"Its just so wonderful this is happening for them.  They have such hard times, and Yokano-san was such a good man.  That boy is obviously of good samurai stock, you can tell by looking at him."

"You're so very right.  It's a shame they're going to wait until after spring planting to have the ceremony, but of course they need to have a good financial base to support any blessings that might come along."

"Those blessings might come along a little sooner than expected, unless they're careful.  Really, no matter how good it is for their family, it is a little shameless."

"Especially with that other girl in the house.  Really, Toshio-san can do better than her.  Doesn't Sendai Town have enough pretty girls to choose from?"

"Yes, but Toshio-san has always been a little odd.  You really can't blame him for it, he has had a difficult life."

"Well, there is always the chance he will come to his senses.  When Seta-san and Kimiko-san get married perhaps they'll send the girl to live in town with her family.  You know, that rough, brawling girl.  That would certainly show that girl her place.  Seta-san certainly shouldn't be expected to support her along with his own family."

"She could probably get a job as a waitress at that bar where her sister works.  That kind of thing would probably suit her.  She has the manners for it."

No.  It wasn't true.  It couldn't be true.  Soujiro would never do something like that to her.  He couldn't.  But, but, the pieces all fit.  That's why he'd spent so much time talking about Finances and family history with Kimiko.  That's why he never paid any attention to her any more.  That's why he had thrown himself so whole heartedly into the harvest.  He was planning his future.  But no, that couldn't be true.  They'd been through so much together.  These women were wrong.  They had to be wrong.  She had to find out what was going on.  She had to find Soujiro.  She couldn't stand hearing them talk anymore.

She ran back the way she came as if a demon were after her, her sandals beating the dirt even as she struggled with the tears that had been threatening to come for so long now.  This could not be happening.  This could not be happening.  This could _not_ be happening.

She got back to the farm in record time, despite the ragged sobs that made it difficult to breathe.  She wouldn't let herself stop, not until she found Soujiro and demanded to know what was going on.  Her hair, which she had hurriedly bound with her ribbon some hours before, finally came loose after her frantic sprint from town and although she has the presence of mind to catch it and keep it from falling to the ground, she was too preoccupied to do anything with it other than loosely tie it around her wrist.  

She had to find Soujiro.  She had to.  She deserved to know what was going on.  She had to know.  She had to.  So preoccupied was she that she did not bother to watch where she was going and ran smack into the line of fresh clothing that had been hung out to dry that morning.  Flailing frustratedly, in an attempt to get untangled all she managed to do was bring the piece of clothing down on top of her.  Unable to deal with any more she dropped to the ground as she scrabbled to get the garment off of her.

She froze as soon as she realized what it was.  It was Soujiro's gi, although it looked somehow different.  There was something about it that unsettled her.  There was something about it that wasn't right.  Then she saw them.

Lined up along the right shoulder, like a rank of soldiers, was a row of neat, precise stitches done in such an elegant way that they weren't even noticeable until you looked.  If she looked closely she could still make out the larger gouged holes where her own crude stitching had be ripped out.

She was oddly calm.  Well, there it was then.  There was nothing binding them now, since the ties of the heart could be rent so easily.  He had every right to be happy in his own way, and she would trouble him no more.  He obviously didn't need or want her around, except in a proprietary, fatherly sort of way.  She didn't need a daddy to take care of her.   

She disentangled herself from the gi and then stood.  She took one last look around the farm, taking in the tranquil serenity, and then Kuri turned and walked away, leaving both the gi and her ribbon behind her, tangled in a discarded pile.


	8. Three Little Words: The Killing Sword's ...

I'll Do My Crying in the Rain  
  
Chapter 8 -- Three Little Words: The Killing Sword's Sheath  
  
By Gabi (Gabi@pinkfluffy.net)  
  
Soujiro leaned back and stretched, glad for a break in the monotony of repairing the storage shed. He'd been at it all morning and he was happy to find that it was battened down for the winter now. The Yokanos wouldn't have to worry about their food spoiling out in the weather. It was yet another job done and another debt paid.  
  
He scratched the back of his neck and cast about for Toshio. The boy was nowhere to be seen and Soujiro couldn't help but think he'd run off after Kuri. This was one debt that was getting harder and harder to pay. Ignoring Kuri was difficult, especially under current circumstances. She threw herself at him just about every time they met and he found it difficult to constantly dodge her and put her off. He knew that it was making her uncomfortable but he had to give her this choice. He owed her this choice. Here was a steady, stable home with a man who obviously adored her. She seemed to enjoy his company as well, although she was beginning to become more and more shy around him. Soujiro suspected that she might be finally on to the boy's honest yet serious intentions.  
  
Here was a pleasant safe home for the girl who'd nearly been killed because of his carelessness. She had the right to it if she chose it, and he had no right to interfere with her decision. But still, he found it difficult to ignore her and had to lose himself in conversations with the beautiful, chill Yokano Kimiko.  
  
He shook his head and again glanced about, wondering where Toshio had gotten to. He set off to look for the boy to once again recruit him into shed repair and had just rounded the corner of the house when he came across the rumpled heap of clothing that lay underneath the line of fresh laundry. He absently wondered who had knocked it down even as he bent to retrieve it and hang it up again.  
  
Then he noticed her ribbon and the precise, clean stitches that marched across the right shoulder of his gi.  
  
He fingered the stitches idly even as a chill breeze played with his hair. This was a problem  
  
*  
  
Kuri had been walking for three days now. The snow had started midway through the first day. She had certainly not picked a nice season of the year for a walking tour of Japan.  
  
Since she had left so quickly she wasn't exactly suited for the weather. She did have her owagi and she was thankful for that, but her feet were cold. She was wearing thin cotton socks. She wished she had planned her rebellion a little better, but at least she had left. She was proud of herself. She was finally doing things on her own.  
  
She had decided to visit Hisashi and Yoshida in Kyoto and she felt oddly refreshed at having made a decision for herself. Hisashi had invited her to visit, after all, and she knew Yoshida would not turn her away. She had contemplated staying in Sendai Town with her sister but that was too close to him. He might try and get her and bring her back, and she was not going back.  
  
She paused, as she could hear the whisper of crunching snow behind her, but when she turned there was no one there. She hadn't really expected there to be. It was just her mind playing tricks on her after a long day of walking alone in the cold. She turned to face the road in front of her again after a wistful moment of absent regret. It was a pity. He was such an idiot. Well, he deserved what he got. That crane girl had to be a cold fish. He cheeks colored lightly at the thought and she was happy to realize that she no longer felt numb from what had happened. Instead, she felt sort of sorry for Soujiro. Well, it wasn't really his fault if he was an idiot. She shrugged and then giggled.  
  
She took a deep breath and then bellowed, "SOUJIRO NO BAKA!" as loudly as she could manage. Maybe, through some trick of magic he would hear her and get out of the situation while he still could.  
  
She giggled again and she found she could deal with the situation more easily if she considered it all one big joke on Soujiro. She was done crying for now.  
  
Feeling much better, and more alive, even against the heavily falling snow, Kuri bounced forward again, breaking her own track in the heavy blanket that covered the road in front of her. As she did, her hair swung loose around her and she tossed her head to get it secured behind her shoulders again and out of the way. As she did she felt a light breeze on the back of her neck, a whisper touch that was so startling that she froze in her tracks and her hands flew to the back of her head where she found her hair neatly bound by a familiar-feeling ribbon.  
  
Her gaze snapped around behind her again and she found herself searching over her shoulder desperately. What on earth was going on? Was that idiot here? Where had the ribbon come from? She was sure that she had left it at the farm. Her search proved fruitless, however, because the only thing in her line of vision was her own receding trail of tracks in the snow. This was getting just plain weird. She turned to continue only after she was sure that there was no way he could be following her.  
  
And then she ran smack into him.  
  
She jumped backward in shock, her eyes wide and her mouth hanging open in astonishment. How in the -- what in the -- what was going on here?  
  
He was, as usual, smiling pleasantly, arms tucked inside his gi, an owagi draped casually over his shoulders and a scarf loose around his neck. Well, at least he had been smart enough to dress for the weather. One point to Soujiro.  
  
He looked completely unperturbed by this whole situation, as if they had planned to meet like this, in the middle of a heavy snowstorm, on the road to Kyoto.  
  
"You know, when I gave you that ribbon I meant for you to keep it?"  
  
There it was again, that damn proprietary air. He could go straight to hell.  
  
"If you think I'm going to stand here and listen to you mock me then you have got another thing coming. I don't need you the way you think I need you. You're not going to keep me wrapped around your finger any more. I'm tired of following you around."  
  
His smile remained absent, "I am quite aware that you don't need me. You made that abundantly clear by walking out."  
  
She put her hands on her hips, "Then why are you here?"  
  
He looked upward at the sky and watch the snow come down for a few moments before answering, "I need you."  
  
Kuri's arms went slack and she felt all the fight go out of her. This wasn't fair. He shouldn't be allowed to do this to her.  
  
"I am not your child. You can't use me like I'm some sort of blanket to curl up in when you're lonely. I won't live a half life for you."  
  
"I know that," he wasn't smiling any more, just looking at her steadily, "I never meant to do that to you."  
  
She shook her head. She wasn't going to let him do this to her. He had chosen, now he was going to live with it. He couldn't have his cake and eat it too. There was no way she was going back.  
  
"I think you need to go back to the woman that you chose," she spoke flatly and returned his gaze levelly.  
  
He bowed his head for a moment and she wondered about his reaction until she caught his low, soft chuckle. Oh, he was in for it now.  
  
She flailed angrily at him before charging into a sentence that went by almost so fast that it wasn't intelligible, "Seta Soujiro, if you think I'm going to stand here and let you laugh at me . . . "  
  
She wasn't prepared for him to gently lay his hands on her shoulders and pull her closer to him, so he could see her better, as the snow was making their conversation difficult.  
  
He smiled and shook his head, turning her favorite insult over on her, "Kuri no baka. Why do you think I'm here?"  
  
Her breathing quickened and she found she couldn't respond.  
  
"I chose you. You've always been the only one. I'm not very good at saying this. Gomen ne, Kuri. I haven't had very much practice," he looked flustered and paused before he continued, "I don't know what you thought or why you thought it, but you've always been right here."  
  
He took a hand off her shoulder and pushed back the right side of his own owagi so his hand rested over his heart. Kuri's eyes softened as she realized the patch over his shoulder was flapping open again, the seam she'd see a few days ago neatly slit, as if by a dagger or a katana.  
  
"I could say 'I love you' but you deserve more than that. You've been walking the path behind me. I really have no right to ask this, but can we walk the path together?"  
  
Her lower lip trembled as she searched his face. He was serious again, and she could only wonder what it cost him in nerve to keep from retreating into his smile.  
  
"Soujiro no baka!" she laughed, even as she felt tears in her eyes, "It took you long enough to ask. I'm going to say yes, but you had better behave yourself. I can't believe it took you this long to figure everything out. You really can be an idiot . . . "  
  
"Kuri," he nudged softly.  
  
She continued on as if she hadn't heard him, "And furthermore, I don't know what you were thinking hanging around with Kimiko-san all the time. What was I supposed to think with all those old ladies gossiping all the time . . ."  
  
"Kuri," he murmured a little more deliberately, a soft laugh in his voice.  
  
"And how could you let Toshio-san spend so much time with me. If I were you, which I'm not, but if I was I'm sure I'd have figured all this stuff out a long time ago. I mean, come on, you couldn't really think you were doing the right thing. You can be an idiot sometimes, but you're not that much of an idiot. You have to have some brains in there, what with the way you talk all the time . . ."  
  
"Kuri," this time he was loud enough to break her train of thought.  
  
She paused for a moment to catch her breath, "Nani?"  
  
He moved easily, naturally, and before she could blink, he had picked her up. He was warm and she felt so close to him. As if she had finally started listening to a channel of intimacy that had always been there but they had both ignored.  
  
"Be quiet."  
  
She blinked. He had never, in their whole relationship, ever told her to be quiet. It was a surprisingly astonishing experience.  
  
And then he kissed her.  
  
This was also a surprisingly astonishing experience, both sweet and warm, soft, gentle, complete. He broke off after a few moments and then smiled at her.  
  
"Sumimasen, Kuri. I'm not very good at this. I've never kissed anyone before either."  
  
She sighed exasperatedly and kicked her feet in the air, "Neither have I. I'm sure you're doing fine. Soujiro, do me a favor."  
  
"What?" he asked curiously, wondering rather honestly if she had any suggestions.  
  
"Stop thinking all the goddamned time!" she flailed to emphasize her statement and he laughed.  
  
"I'll try, Kuri," he turned to face the road in front of them and then began walking steadily ahead.  
  
"Where are we going?" she asked blankly, quite confused.  
  
He coughed, then cleared his throat and then finally managed to answer.  
  
"I'm trying not to think about it."  
  
END  
  
-----  
  
That's it folks, the end of I'll Do My Crying. If you're wondering what the hell is going to happen about all the loose ends I left, stay tuned. You'll get all you answers and probably considerably more questions in Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head. Stay tuned, they'll be back ^_^ 


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